Fell On Black Days
by Vivalandra
Summary: Post-graduation, Sam and Danny decided that it'd be best to end their relationship due to the distance that would keep them apart. A few years later, and lost contact left them unaware of each other's new lives. Curiosity got the best of Danny when he noticed that the girl next door looks like his beloved Samantha. But big secrets behind closed doors are better left untold. *ABUSE*
1. Trepidation

~S~

She was frozen.

For once in her life, the kitchen tile never looked more comforting.

Her breathing was steady. Her heartbeat was rhythmic. The long sleeves her gray fleece were like lotion on dry skin. Her fingers trailed all along the material, reaching for something to feel other than the knife in her chest.

She dazed out, taking herself away to a better life-a greater life-than she could have ever possibly imagined.

A life that she once had that was now a distant memory.

The scent of oxygen and homegrown flowers sitting in the windowsill was interrupted by the smell of tobacco and tar.

A fog shrouded over her eyes. At first she thought they had glossed over.

Smoke. She was seeing through smoke.

The burning sensation made her shut them tight and recoiling, her back hitting that of the chair's she was sitting in, and bursting into a coughing fit.

"Babe, I'm not going to ask you twice," a deep voice filled her ears, which originally heard the chirping of nature's call in the branches of the trees standing tall just outside her window.

Very slowly, she opened her eyes. The smoke was gone. His details were clear. The scruff on his face from the two day's span of time that he didn't shave. The white tank-top stained with old Heineken beer. The black pull-string sweatpants he was wearing with moth-eaten holes on the right leg. The Marlboro cigarette resting just between his forefinger and middle finger, in the same hand that he gripped the bottle so firmly, his knuckles were white.

She knew the disappointment of herself for being intimidated by such a lowlife of a man. However, seeing as his stature stood at about 6' 4", weighing 215 pounds (all muscle, little fat) and she came in at a short 5' 3" 118 pounds, her husband, the one whom she feared the most, could probably break her in two with no effort at all. This much she knew, and it was enough to stay on his good side.

And he wasn't always like this. From the beginning, Josh had been a good man. When they met, Sam was in a pretty banged up condition. She was fresh out of a relationship with her high school sweetheart and had moved away from the city to get a new start without the hassle of controlling parents weighing her down. She moved to New Jersey, while her loved ones stayed in New York, and she was beginning her college life majoring in animal science and photography in order to pursue her dream as a wildlife photographer. A mishap at a cafe one day led to a very polite, gentleman offering to pay for her frappuccino. With no money to pay him back, but still in means to somehow reward him, they shared a booth and talked about themselves: what they were interested in, what they were doing in Jersey, the weird accents that most of the residents had.

" _You're not from around here at all, are you?" he asked her._

" _God, no," she laughed. "I'm from New York. Amity Park, a small town on the outskirts of Amityville, in Babylon."_

" _I can tell by your accent; it's not local."_

" _You recognize my accent?" she pulls back, covering her mouth. "God, I feel sorry for you-"_

" _No, it's… it's cute. I love New York accents."_

" _You… do?"_

" _Yeah. This one time, I went to Brooklyn because my brother used to play in a band when we were kids. When he was in his early 20s, he got a gig at some small bar there. Not much of a place to perform, but it was a start. I couldn't get in, since I was only 19 at the time, but I stood outside the bar and I listened. I was leaning against the wall, on the side of the place, and as people walked by, I picked up on some of the conversations they were having. Their accents are so weird, and yet… really comforting, all at the same time."_

" _What about the Bronx?" Sam asked. "Have you been there before?"_

" _Nah," he waved a hand, "but I've heard a lot about it. I've watched some of those older movies with the police detectives and their loose ties and poorly buttoned shirts with the sleeves rolled up. They tha tuff guis eh?" he mocked a Bronx accent._

 _Sam giggled. "Good one."_

 _They were still for a bit, and Sam sipped her frappuccino, and reached over the table, slowly closing his hand around hers and flashing her a handsome smile. Her eyes looked down at his appendage and back up at his face, focusing in on his straight pearly whites._

" _Has everyone ever told you that you're so amazingly beautiful?"_

 _She leans in, a sarcastic smirk on her face. "Do you say that to all the pretty girls you meet?"_

" _No seriously, you are. I'm mostly fascinated with your eye color. Are they naturally like that?"_

" _Yes," she nodded. "I was born with a condition that causes irregular eye color. It's not damaging to the cornea at all, but it's really cool, having purple eyes."_

" _Alexandria's Genesis?"_

" _You've heard of it?"_

" _I read a book about it," he answered. "I mean, it was fiction, but… I didn't actually think the condition existed."_

 _She gives a slow nodded; he gives her hand a squeeze._

" _Come on, why don't you let me take you on a date?"_

 _Sam let out a sigh, gently taking her other hand and wrapping it around his, placing back over to his side of the table. She thought that he was a sweet man, incredibly charming and very intelligent, but she wasn't ready to move on to something else. A brief flashback flooded her mind: his blue eyes, his hands on her shoulders, him telling her that it's best this way and that they'd be happier. He wrapped his strong arms around her, and gave him a light peck on the cheek, whispering goodbye in his ear. The last thing she remembers about him is the scent of his cologne on his shirt, his eyes looking at her with a sense of sympathy, and his slumped composure as he half-heartedly got into his car and drove off down the road, never to be seen by her again._

 _He was going to college, far away._

 _Off to start a new life and to create a new half of himself._

 _She knew that if he could move on, she had to as well._

 _But he was so good to her… they'd dated for so long…_

 _She just couldn't, no matter how hard she tried. Talking to someone else felt like cheating on him in her heart._

 _She couldn't bear the thought of that._

 _Looking at him, she changed the topic. "By the way, I didn't catch your name."_

" _Josh," he smiled. "My name's Josh. Are you trying to change the topic, Miss…?"_

" _Sam," she answered._

" _Miss Sam? Come on, just one date. If I'm horrible, we can just stay friends. I promise."_

" _That's so sweet of you, and it's tempting, but I can't."_

" _Oh. Is there… is there someone else?"_

" _No, no, of course not. It's just that I just got out of a relationship not too long ago, a really good one, and I'm not ready yet."_

" _Will you at least consider giving me a chance?"_

" _Consider it…?" She was pensive._

" _Consider," he grinned, "meaning it doesn't have to be official."_

 _She leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table. Her coffee had long cooled, but her heart was warmed up. This guy was perfect in every way shape or form. Perfect dark hair. Perfect white teeth. Gorgeous chiseled face. It's almost as if fate saw her shitty situation and sent her a gift to lighten her up. Not to mention the guy was a complete smooth-talker. Incredibly persuasive. Had that "I get what I want" attitude._

 _At the time, he was the most handsome, flawless human being she'd ever met._

A loud clank scared the living daylights out of her, and she jolted.

"ANSWER ME," Josh raised his voice. He was growing more and more impatient as the seconds ticked by.

"Yes," she quietly uttered, "I'll make you dinner tonight."

"Well?"

"Well?" she repeated confused.

"You stupid-" he uttered quietly, then spoke clear enough for her to hear, "aren't you going to ask me what I want?"

"What do you want?" her tone of voice was stale, like she spoke with forced words.

He leans to her, grabs her wrist and gives her a sarcastic smile. He squeezes. She winces.

"Sam, darling, how about you ask me like you care about it?"

"I'm sorry. What would you like for dinner tonight hubby?"

"Now that you ask," he smiled, letting go of her wrist, "minestrone soup."

Sam gives a small nod with a heavy head. There's so much she wishes she could do. So much she wishes she could say.

But the hardest thing about this relationship isn't obeying; it's insubordinating. Like rubbing her wrists against metal handcuffs. He reaches his face across the table, tapping his right cheek with his index finger. She meets him halfway and kisses his cheek, standing up from the table and going over to the pantry, taking out a couple of spices before going to the refrigerator and taking out the necessary vegetables. So focused in preparation, she failed to notice a stray tear escaping her eye, and only realized once she saw a clear droplet fall to the floor. She wiped it, taking some more mascara off with it.

That's all her relationship was about now.

Tears, smeared makeup and spiteful dinners.

…

~D~

The lock clicks and he twists the door open, moving a strand of black-colored hair out of his eyes and squinting his blue eyes in the dim lights of the room. He closes the door behind him, using his foot since his hands were too busy keeping grocery bags and a work bag, and locks it back up, putting his keys in the bowl. Unopened boxes were still stacked in piles throughout the room, a result of both laziness and little time to do much of the unpacking. It was draining, moving into a new house from a small apartment in the city. Instead of not having enough room for too many possessions, it was like they had too many possessions and too much room. How were they going to fill the gaps? He hears clanking in the kitchen, an indication that he's not the only one in the house who is actively moving about.

"Hey babe," he calls out.

"In the kitchen," a much more feminine voice responds.

He sets his bag down and brings the groceries in the kitchen, setting them on the counter. The ever so beautiful voice that he had heard was coming from a luscious, curvy woman, standing before a stovetop, stirring the substance in a pot of boiling water. She jerks her head back to look at him, then turns back and continues.

"Hey Danny, dinner's almost ready."

"No problem Sarah, take your time."

"Oh, don't worry, I will," she smirks. "What did you bring me?"

"Oh, nothing," he responds, "just some stuff for dinner tomorrow night."

"You got taco stuff, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did, but it's on me. You can have a night to relax."

She sets the wooden spoon down, using a towel to dry her hands of the condensation from the steam. "Gee, thanks. I think I'll take you up on that." With a sly smile, he steps behind her and nibbles at her neck, giving her bottom a good whack. She waves his hand away, whispering for him to leave her be to get dinner done. He reluctantly obeys and leaves the kitchen, taking off his jacket and leaning it against the couch before going upstairs to change out of his uniform. The whole time through, he thinks about his life: how he ended up there, how things would've turned out different if he had stayed in Amity Park.

If he had stayed with Sam.

Oh, Sam… his sweet Samantha.

They fell completely out of touch since their separation. It wasn't his intention; he just didn't keep up with her. He wondered even more now how she was doing. Did she get married? Have kids? He mentally laughed at himself. Sam was never one for either of those things. Then his mind immediately went to how much Sam could've changed in all these years that passed. He definitely knows her Goth phase was amiss; she was already leaving it towards their departure. They've had such a bond together, tied since the second grade. He wanted to hope that everything was ok, but Sam didn't even contact him once in the time that they've been apart. Granted he knew he could've easily contacted Tucker to see if he still had Sam's number, or if she changed it, if he was still in touch with her, but he always did suck at communication. Sam was better than that. Sam always contacted them.

What if she was in trouble? Was everything alright?

Danny's mind took a complete u-turn down a dark road, and he felt his blood run cold. Break up or not, Danny always loved Sam, and still does even after giving his vows to another woman. The thought of her getting hurt by someone made him sick to his stomach, and angry all at the same time. He always protected Sam, and he wasn't going to stop just because both of them mutually agreed that their distance would drift them apart.

Occasionally, he'd go ghost, just to fly back to Amity Park to see his family. They'd always be relieved, like it's been ages since he's been around. His mother would cry, his father would smile, and the times that his sister was there, she'd give him a big hug and never let him go. He never realized how little he'd see them once he'd start living on his own. Since his departure, they've gotten more time to each other, and at first they weren't entirely sure what to do with it. They were, after all, retired from ghost hunting, but they were still making gadgets and distributing them all throughout Amity Park. The citizens bought them from good money, since the town had so many paranormal incidents and the Fenton's were the only ones who manufactured and sold ghost hunting and repelling equipment. It was good money, definitely enough to make a living on, and it was bringing good to the family business.

Jazz had long left even before Danny, and she had started her life as a psychologist. From the last conversation that they had, Danny remembered her saying that she was married with a child, and she was living a comfortable lifestyle. She dropped in with her family for the holidays, but the top discussion had always been why Danny never came around as much. Truth was was that Danny was too afraid to bring Sarah around. It's not that she was a "bad influence" or "the type of girl you wouldn't bring home to Mom and Dad", but she had a very extroverted personality. You either liked her or you didn't- _that's_ the kind of person she was. Sam was much more laid back; it was easier to bring her around his parents, especially since she was already considered a part of the family since her and Danny were little. It's not that his parents wouldn't like Sarah, it would just definitely take some getting used to, and he was afraid that if, hypothetically, they never did, that it would be troublesome, considering he's already engaged to her. For what it was worth, though, Jazz had already met her and she liked her a lot. They got along perfectly. Even Tucker liked her, and Tucker doesn't think to high of "extroverted people".

Tucker was definitely a man of his word. He said he was going to be mayor of Amity Park for as long as possible, and he upheld his title even to this very day. It must have been a lot to keep track of, but it didn't really seem to bother him much. He and Valerie actually went somewhere, which was fine with Danny. Even though him and Valerie did have a thing, he kind of pushed them together. Valerie was a good girl, and deserved the best treatment she could've gotten. Tucker was a good guy, looking for a girl to treat right. They were the perfect match. As far as Danny knew, they were just cohabitating, but nothing more. Tucker was going to propose to her, but only when the time was right. Plus he was more of a doofus, and didn't know how to do it properly. Danny had to give him pointers. Once a week, when they had their outings at their favorite bar, Danny would try to build a scenario to walk him through, but Tucker would always chicken out. One day he won't be afraid to take that extra step. Danny wasn't, and he didn't regret it in the slightest.

Well… that was a lie.

Danny didn't tell Sarah this, but every time that they had sex, all he would see was Sam. He remembered the times that they were young, the times that they'd have sex. He remembered her smell, how she tasted, how she sounded, how it felt when her handles traveled up and down his chest. His favorite place for her to rub. How she'd whisper his name every time he kissed one of her favorite places to be kissed. Every time Sarah and him had sex, all he saw was Sam.

All he felt was Sam.

All he smelled was Sam.

All he tasted when he went down on her was Sam.

All he heard was Sam.

And he felt horrible, marrying Sarah while he fantasized about another girl. He loved Sarah deeply, with all his heart, but… he just couldn't get Sam out of his head. Why couldn't he get her out of his head?

He now realized that he had sat down on the bed and placed his head in his hands. He rubbed his face roughly, giving his cheek a little slap. He shook his head hard. Sam was gone. He had to get over her. Years of convincing and personal therapy were his attempts to, but her presence stuck with him. How the hell do you get over someone so perfect? So beautiful? He promised to spend the rest of his life with her. To have kids with her. To marry.

But instead he broke it, swearing himself to another girl. He felt as if he betrayed her, even though their break-up made it clear there was no future between them. The distance just wouldn't be bearable.

He got up with a deep sigh, opening the curtain just by the foot of his bed. Drawing the blinds up, he placed his hands on the window. She was somewhere out there, and he hoped that wherever it was, she was happy and she was being treated well. He heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and the creaking sound of the bedroom door opening.

"Is everything alright, Danny?"

Without turning around, but lightening his voice just a tad, he responded with a brief, "yes, everything's good."

"Ok," she said. "Well, your… plate's ready. You don't want your food getting cold, do you?"

"I'll be down in just a second, babe. Go ahead and start without me. You rented those new movies, right?"

"Yeah, I'll go pop it in. Just… if you need to talk-"

"I don't need to talk, sweetie. Everything's fine. I promise."

"Ok, ok," she said. Without another word, she reluctantly started back down the stairs. Just across the way, the neighbors next door had the blinds to their bedroom open. Danny didn't like to be an eavesdropper because he thought it was rude, but despite his conscious, he nosily peaked in anyway.

He saw a girl.

A girl with long, black hair that went down to her mid-back, wearing what looked like a gray long-sleeved jacket. Her back was facing the window. She was holding her arms with her head bent down. With the position she's in, it looked like she was crying. Her right hand came up to her face and moved in a wiping motion before she stood up, turned and started walking towards the blinds.

He pulled back and gasped.

Amethyst eyes.

She had amethyst eyes.

"No fucking way," he whispered to himself. He peaked through again, but he was too slow to get a second look. The blinds were closed. He left the blinds and turned back towards the bedroom, freezing in place. "Sam? Was that… Sam?"

…

 **DUN DUN DUN, cliffhanger. Have fun contemplating the next chappie-don't know when it's coming out.**


	2. Reunification

**~D~**

The cold touch of the film rested softly against his hand. The photographs were sprawled out amongst the table. He had only taken them out one other time, and that was right after their break-up-the day that they parted their ways. Their primary resting place was in an old photo album book, stashed away in a box that was kept on the very top shelf in the attic. Somewhere where Sarah would never want to look (she had a horrible fear of spiders and dark places, so she never went up to the attic).

He ran his hands through his hair.

Inhaled. Exhaled.

Paced the floor of his dining room.

Leaned himself upright using the back of the dining room chair, closed his eyes and revisited the day before, standing against the window and peering through the blinds. Watching the girl across the way. Her amethyst eyes and long black hair.

He knew it was her. It had to be her.

It had to be Sam.

He wrapped around the chair and took a seat once more, picking up his favorite photograph of the two of them kissing, with Niagara Falls in the background. Sam's makeup looked so beautiful that day-the way that her mascara made her eyelashes bigger, accentuating her eyes. Her rosy red cheeks in the cold air. The way that Danny's jacket draped over her small body.

He loved her so much.

And now he just had to know. He had to know if that was really her.

He decided to find out the hard way: going to the next house over and finding out for himself.

He abruptly rose from the chair and flung his black sweatshirt over his back, pushing his arms through the sleeves while making his way to the front door and slipping on his black boots. Sarah was very anal about how everything in the house was placed. One thing left out of place and then Hell would rise above the ground. Thinking about this, Danny smirked before shutting the door and stepping down the porch steps slowly. With each one, he felt his heart thud a little harder-felt it pound a little louder. Facing the house next door was like looking into another dimension, with no idea of knowing what's on the other side. He felt the energy inside himself strengthen, and the mutual bond between him and the house grew.

Somehow, some way, Sam had to be inside.

He crossed his lawn, feeling the grass below the sole of his shoes melt into the ground outside. The muggy smell of humidity filled his nostrils. It had just got done raining, and the sky was still as cloudy as can be. The sun wasn't coming out anytime soon. Danny stepped onto the pavement and approached the door, stopping on the mat. It was right before him, and yet he still felt so far away. He was so incredibly nervous-if it was Sam, what would she think? What would she say? He couldn't wait any longer, he had to see if it was her, _really her._

He took a deep breath and knocked on the door firmly, then took a step back and waited patiently. In case it wasn't her, he had to think of something to say. He had to improvise. _"Hey there. I just recently moved in and I wanted to stop by and just mingle with the neighbors and whatnot-introduce myself."_ Yeah, that'd work.

"Babe!" he heard a deep voice shout. It was muffled, which told him that it was coming from inside the house. A man's voice… if this was Sam, was she married? "Answer the door!"

He heard what sounded like a softer, more feminine voice respond to him, and then the slamming of a fairly heavy object somewhere to his right. This made Danny jump in surprise and peer worriedly at the door, as if he were trying to somehow see through it. He was prepared to go ghost at any second if he needed to; from the sound of it, it was on the verge of getting nasty. Regardless of whether or not she was Sam, it was still...unsettling.

" _Answer the fucking door!_ You never do anything right, I swear!"

There was dead silence, and this made Danny's heart drop. Then he heard faint footsteps, almost like bare feet against wood, pitter-patter towards the door, some ruffling of the lock, the turning of the doorknob and the door slowly opening inward, a big amethyst eye looking out at him. The woman's voice sounded exhausted, as if she hadn't slept in days. Danny also picked out another tone that he didn't like: fear. She sounded as if she were _absolutely terrified_ for her life.

"Y-Yes?"

Danny slowly took a step towards her, his hands out in front of him, palms facing her. He was signaling that he was not there to hurt her.

"I just, uh... I wanted to… to come over and… introduce myself," he spoke carefully, "or perhaps you may already know who I am."

"I don't recall," she replied, still hiding behind the door.

"Are you Sam? Samantha Manson?"

"Manson was my maiden name. How do you know who I am?"

"It's me," he placed his hands to his chest, "it's Danny… don't you recognize me?"

Immediately, her mouth dropped. She quickly glanced behind her, staying that way for only a moment until she looked back and stepped one foot out of the door and shimmied her body through the small gap, quietly shutting it behind her.

Now she was standing in plain sight before him, nowhere to hide. She still looked the same as she did when he last saw her: the same hair, the same eyes, the same small, frail body that she genetically inherited. The only difference was the scent she carried-it was different now. Perhaps it was the new cologne that she was around every day. He didn't care that she was wearing just a plain, boring white nightgown. He didn't care that the streaks of mascara covered her cheeks sloppily. He didn't care that the nails of her toes had chipped black polish on them, and that her 'Bubala' tattoo was exposed on her right foot shamelessly.

He was just so glad to see her.

And from the change in her face, he knew that the feeling was mutual.

"Oh God," she whispered, soft chuckles coming out as whispers from her mouth, "Oh my God, Danny…"

"Hi Sam," he smiled gently.

"Danny," she lunged towards him and hugged him by his neck, burying her face into his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around the small of her back, lifting her off her feet to keep her from scraping her skin against the pavement. "Sam," he whispered.

"I haven't seen you in so long," she cried. "I thought you'd forgotten about me."

"Never," he shook his head, "I never forgot about you."

They let each other go, him setting her down on the mat. She held his forearms, her eyes brightening.

"Well… God, tell me everything. How have you been? What's been happening?"

"I've been good. Just moved in next door. I'm engaged now."

"Oh," she nodded slowly. "I'm married."

"Yeah… to the asshole in there, I'm assuming?"

"He's not that bad if you just get to know him."

"Yeah, sure he isn't."

"Danny-"

"He sounds violent, Sam… does he hurt you?"

"Danny, ple-"

"Tell me that he hurts you, and I'll rip his fuckin' teeth out."

"Danny, for God's sake, please. We just reunited and I don't want to fight now, ok?" She grazed her hand against his bicep, and she winced. He could tell that she felt severely threatened by the size of his body compared to hers. Danny's bulked up a little bit more since their departure, but even before Sam was never afraid of his stature. He was hurt seeing just how much fear was instilled in her over the course of years. "Ok?"

"Sam," he whispered, grabbing her hands ever so gracefully. They engulfed hers, and he then realized that he was quite a bit bigger than she was. His biceps were practically bigger than her head, but he's always been like that. That shouldn't have made a difference.

But one look in her eyes, and he knew that it did.

"Sam," he spoke again, "you _know_ me. You know that I'd _never, ever_ hurt you."

Slowly, she nodded. He can tell that the look in her eyes was a lot less dark and a lot more relaxed. "I know."

"And I know that it's hard, and that you're scared to speak up, but you _have_ to tell me the truth. Your life could depend on it." He cups her face in her hands. "Please… I _need_ to know-"

The door swings open suddenly, causing Sam to practically jump out of her skin and Danny to slowly put his hands down. Sam turned to face her hostile husband, practically shivering from his presence, backing up closer towards Danny. He glares at the guy before him and instantaneously felt his blood boil. He was wearing a wife beater and solid red baseball cap with the bill backwards. In his right hand he was gripping a Heineken bottle, about three quarters empty. He had a bit of stubble, five o'clock shadow, and hair going down his arms leading to his hands. Danny's heart immediately dropped when he saw his bruised knuckles. His stomach churned.

He felt like stabbing the guy.

He felt like ripping his throat out.

He felt like murdering him and mutilating his corpse.

But he maintained his composure. He knew that the fighting had to be sneaky.

For Sam's sake, at least until she was out of harm's way, he had to act oblivious.

"Uh… hey," Danny said, reaching his hand out to shake his, "I'm Danny. I live right next door. I was just dropping by to introduce myself."

"Sam," he responded, eyes locked onto Danny's, "the fuck is this asshole doing on my porch?"

"He was just coming to say hi," she replied quietly, voice just above a whisper.

"Yeah well you two were getting _real_ friendly," he starts walking towards them, and both retreated whilst slowly walking backwards. He takes a long swig of his beer and hurdles the bottle towards the sidewalk without a glance, smashing it into a dozen pieces. The mere sound of it makes Sam cower, and Danny holds his arm up protectively to cover her. He thought of something quickly to change the topic.

"You into boxing?" he gestures towards his knuckles. He looks down at them and looks back up at him. He smirks, glaring coily at him before replying, "yeah. You want me to demonstrate? I've been gettin' _pretty good."_ He balls his hand up in a fist and Sam speaks up.

"Stop it honey. He didn't come here looking for trouble."

"Well he sure as hell found it, way he had his hands touching all over you."

"He was just being nice; he wasn't doing anything wrong-"

"Wasn't doing anything wrong, you say!?" he barks at her, and her eyes get glossy. Danny's arm pushes her back a bit further. "You're my wife, and this is _no big deal_ to you!?"

"No, of course it is," she says, "you're taking it out of context; that's not what I said-"

"Get in the house," he says in a low voice.

Danny immediately felt her brace her hand on his back, and he glances at her. She gives him a half-hearted reassuring looks signaling that it was ok and, reluctantly, he put his arm down and she stepped forward slowly. She must have noticed that he was trying to provoke Danny because she put her hands out and braced them on his chest.

"Josh... I know what you're thinking. You're drunk. You have to calm down-"

"Sam… get. In. The _fucking._ House," he hissed. She inhales. Exhales. She moves to walk behind him and glances back at Danny, giving him a pleading look. Danny immediately takes notice, and his eyes look up to meet hers.

Josh starts towards Danny, stopping face-to-face with him, and he gives him a cocky grin.

"Hey asshole," he says, "my eyes are right here."

Danny reverts his eyes back to Josh's.

"Stay away from my wife, pretty boy, or I'll cut off your scrotum and drape it on your head like a hat." He gives him a nice pat on the face, and then turns around to go into the house. He pushes Sam further in, and Danny can see him continuing off down the hall.

"Close the fucking door, Sam," he calls out.

She turns her head back towards the hall, then looks back at Danny as she slowly closes the door.

Danny stands, completely shell shocked.

He knew that Sam was in trouble, he could feel it in his gut… but he didn't know it was _that_ bad.

What was he going to do?

How was he going to fix this?

"Don't worry, Sam," he says to himself with only the sound of birds chirping and the wind in the sky able to respond, "I'll get you out of this. I swear."

…

 **~S~**

The night grew still, and the hushed sound of the crickets talking accompanied her racing thoughts. There were a million of them per second, but one of them being… how? How, after all this time, did Danny manage to find her? Had their bond been that strong that they were just… somehow linked together. She had pondered it for hours. Time was on her side, since Josh had gotten so drunk that he passed out on the couch downstairs, so she took advantage of her chance to think back. How was her luck so good to the point that she had lived right next door to the very same man that years back, she thought she'd never see again? Why didn't he come around sooner? How long has he been there? How long did it take him to get there?

Her curiosity ate at her.

She knew better than to bring _it_ out.

She tried not to talk about it or think about it or even look at it for fear that she may accidentally slip up and reveal the location of where it's stashed or that Josh will find out and kill her in her sleep.

It was a shoebox that consisted of pictures of her and Danny, dating all the way back to second grade, among other precious valuables that were meaningless to others, but to her symbolized important events in her life. She set it in front of her, lid right next to it facing up, and took out a small, hard object. She let it roll around in her hand.

The first rock that Danny ever picked out for her. They were in third grade and Danny told her that "something about it made him think of her" and he gave it to her. It was purple and shiny and perfectly shaped. She gripped and held onto it, promising she'd never lose it.

A butterfly hairpin. She wore to her and Danny's junior prom. Danny was upset that he didn't have a date. Sam swore that she was going to stay home-besides, they both knew that she wasn't one for dances. It just wasn't her style. He desperately wanted to go but thought that going with Tucker was… a bit weird. She saw how upset Danny was, though, and offered to _just this one time_ go to it with him. It was one of the most romantic nights she'd ever lived through. The music was perfect, and Danny wouldn't stop commenting on how beautiful she was and how lucky he was to have had the most beautiful woman in the world as his girlfriend. She remembered hitting his shoulder, telling him to stop getting all mushy and that "he was embarrassing her".

She closed her eyes, reminiscing that very night, mouthing his response:

" _I don't care, Sam," he held her. "I'll shout it on rooftops and mountains. I'll tell the whole world. I'm not afraid of what anyone would say. I'm in love with you."_

" _You're being a little ridiculous, don't you think?" she laughed._

" _No," he whispered huskily, "I'm not." He kissed her neck. She smiled and gently pushed him off._

" _Danny… PDA. We wouldn't want Mr. Lancer coming over here shouting, 'Catcher in the Rye, don't you children have any sense!?'"_

 _They laughed._

" _Sounds like Lancer, alright," he rolled his eyes._

 _They waltzed slowly. Danny looked around at the other couples. The music sure was appropriate. For once it didn't make other kids want to shake their asses on each other's legs or go to the bathroom for "private time". It's relieving-most of Casper High was sexed up. The punch couldn't even be trusted, and even that was constantly monitored by chaperones and faculty members for pretty much the whole evening._

 _Danny was so preoccupied that he didn't notice the unsettling look that fell upon Sam's face. He turned to glance at her, and she had completely hid her face from him, looking down at the ground._

" _Hey," he craned his neck, trying to catch her face with his eyes, "are you ok?"_

 _She nodded, not saying a word. She couldn't help but let a tear fall out of her eye and land on her dress. He took notice right away, watching the clear liquid drop thanks to the reflection of the lights._

" _Sam…" he said cautiously before he grabbed her face gently and lifted it upwards. She had definitely been crying, which kind of freaked him out. Sam never cried. Never. "Hey… Sammie, it's ok what's… what's wrong?"_

" _Nothing," she shook her head, "it's not important."_

" _Sam it is important; you're crying."_

 _She inhaled, wiping the rest of the tears traveling down her face with the back of her hand._

" _Is there something that you aren't telling me?" he asked._

" _I…" she started. "...yes."_

" _Is it… is it bad?" he asked. He paused, locking his eyes with hers. He saw worry in her eyes… like she was afraid of something yet to come. He thought of the worst case scenario. "Oh God… Sam… are you pregnant?"_

 _Her eyes widened. "What? Danny, no-"_

" _Because if you are, don't worry, ok? We'll figure it out. I won't leave you."_

" _No, Danny, I'm not pregnant," she spoke confidently. "I swear."_

" _Oh thank sweet baby Jesus," he sighed, kissing her on the cheek repeatedly, "because we so aren't ready for a kid."_

 _She had a faded grin. "It's definitely not that. No throwing up, missed periods or food cravings for me."_

" _Then what's the matter?" he asked._

" _I'm just… I'm worried about what comes after."_

" _What comes after?" he repeated confusingly. "What do you mean? Are you talking about college?"_

" _Yes! I mean… I'm going to New Jersey and you're staying home and… I mean we'd have to travel to see each other, and we'd only be able to do that on breaks, and just… me, you and Tucker, we'll break apart and we'll never speak to each other… and you and I, we're going to end and we'll never see each other again and…"_

" _Sam, calm down, ok? Nothing is going to happen to us. No amount of distance is going to keep us apart, not a hundred, not a thousand, not a million. We're always going to be together."_

" _But what if we aren't, Danny?" she gazed into his eyes. "What if there can't be an us?"_

" _Well… then…" he started, "then we'll always at least be friends. We'll always stay in touch."_

" _Danny… I want you to promise me something, ok?"_

" _That we'll never stop talking to each other, I know."_

" _No," she shook her head. "That if something does happen… that if we fall out of touch… stop talking to each other… wake up one day and just forget that the other exists… you'll try to move on and be happy."_

" _Sam-"_

" _I mean it, Danny. Even if it isn't with me… I want you to be happy. That's all that I care about."_

 _She took her hands in hers. "Promise me."_

" _Sam, come on, you're being silly-"_

" _Danny," she said, sounding more serious._

 _He sighed, kissing her on the forehead. "I promise… on one condition."_

 _She nodded slowly, "ok."_

" _That you'll do the same," he said. "Find someone that will treat you as good as I have… that will start off every day with a smile and a compliment to you… that will make 'you' happy too."_

 _She smiled and kissed his hand. "I promise."_

A sudden thumping sound snapped Sam out of her thoughts and she felt her heart beat rapidly.

It was Josh. He was awake and coming up the stairs.

She quickly threw everything back into the box and put the lid back on, climbing off the bed and placing it back into the foundation just in front of her nightstand before placing the floorboard back over it. She threw the rug in place and stood up, dusting her nightgown before climbing into bed and turning away from the door to face the wall.

He opened the door and stumbled inside, another beer in hand. He sniffed, setting the beer on the dresser just beside the door. He looked towards her and scoffed.

"Are you coming to bed?" she asked without looking back.

He shrugged. "That depends… am I sleeping alone tonight?"  
"What do you mean?"

"Well your little boy toy is right next door; would you prefer to sleep with him?" His words slurred.

 _Great,_ Sam thought, _he's drunk again._

"Baby, please, not now," she sighed. "I just want you to come to bed and sleep with me."

"Well what if I don't want to sleep with a fucking whore?"

"I'm not a whore," she said sternly, "I'm your wife."

Suddenly she felt her hair get tugged and she reached up to feel his balled fist gripping a nice chunk of it tightly. He pulled her out of bed and she fell on her butt, struggling to get to her feet.

"Ow! Josh… you're h-urting me," her voice skipped in panic. He turns her to face him, giving her a look so fierce that it practically burned her eyes.

"Listen to me," he growled, "because I'm only going to say this one last time. You're going to watch your _fucking_ tone, and you're going to _stay away_ from that man, you understand me?"

Sam began to cry. "Josh, please you're hurting me-"

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND!?" he yelled.

"Yes! Yes!" she called out in fright.

"If I see you with him, I'll kill him and then kill you with his corpse."

"Please," she started, "ok. Ok, I won't go near him or speak to him just… please… don't hurt either of us… ok?"

"Good," he said, letting go. She stumbled backwards and landed on the bed. She cried, rubbing the part of her head that hurt the most.

"By the way," he said, grabbing his beer, "you ever gonna try again?"

She sniffled, looking up at him. "Try what again?"

"To give me a baby," he said. "You fucked it up the first time; I'm giving you a second chance."

"I… I just…" she began, but stopped before she continued. She had to come off rationally to him, or he'd just keep beating her and beating her until he's felt that he won.

If she wanted to get across from him, she had to play his game.

"I just want you to be happy, babe," she shook. "But I can't give you a baby if you discipline me real bad 'cause… 'cause you can hurt me, you know?"

He nodded. "Yeah… yeah, I know."

"Can you… can you just be a little more gentle with me? I promise I'll obey you and try not to make you mad. That way you won't have to discipline me as much."

"Yeah…" he said again. "I'm gonna love the hell of it. I'm gonna…"

He didn't even finish his sentence before he lunged at Sam, kissing her like mad. He moved from her lips to her neck, and from there to her jawline. Sam felt disgusted. She wanted to puke.

She didn't always feel this way. When they first got married, and he was sweet, sex with him was amazing. He wasn't Danny, but she loved him, and suffice to say that was enough. Now it felt more as if she were forced to do it. It was a horrible situation to be in-to be sickened by your own spouse.

But that's what years of decay and violence does to someone.

He eased her lay flat on her back as he continued to kiss her all the way down. She felt the hem of her cotton nightgown glide upwards on her thigh and, soon after, her panties (A/N: god I hate that word) caressing her calves. She looked up at the ceiling, feeling more numb than she ever has. She closed her eyes and breathed in and out as she heard his belt unbuckle.

How did she get herself into this?

How does she get herself out of it?

As the sound of pants unzipping filled her ears, she asked herself the most important question: how much more longer can she take it?

...

 **~D~**

It had been a solid six hours since his encounter with Sam and her hot-headed husband, and each minute that ticked away felt more and more agonizing. The look that she gave him… she was trapped. She needed help.

She was scared.

And it ate Danny up inside that for once, he couldn't be a hero.

He could call the police, but what are they going to do? Sam doesn't have enough marks for proof, and Josh could easily lie and cover it up.

He sat with his head in his hands all day. He grabbed paper and pencil and mapped out a plan. He worked out the time intervals of when he could talk to Sam or visit her without having Josh stand in his way. If he wanted to do this right, he had to sit on the sidelines for a while.

He had to wait it out.

He had to act like he wasn't paying attention, enough to where it took the attention off of him.

Enough to where it didn't hurt Sam.

He had been so busy sketching out a plan that the sudden sound of a ringing phone made him jump up from his chair. He looked at the caller ID… it was Sarah. He answered it and put it up to his ear, going back to his work.

"Hey."

"Hi babe! How's home?"

"Uh," he looks around at the empty house, still in pristine condition from nothing being touched, "it's fine. How is uh-how is work?"

She was silent for a second before finally speaking up. "Good?"

"Awesome, cool!"

"Uh, Danny you're acting hella weird. Are you feeling ok?"

"I'm swell," he responded confidently but immediately closed his eyes in disbelief and silently cursed himself before opening them up again. "I'm just, I'm feeling a little weird because… I just miss you that's all." He got up and walked to the cupboard, opening it and reaching up to grab a glass.

"Aw, babe I miss you too! Tell you what: I'll try to get out of here early and I'll come home and we can have you and me time. What do you say?"

"You and me time?" he repeated. "As-as in 'watch a movie and eat popcorn' you and me time or-or 'toss the sheets around' you and me time?"

She got quiet again. This time, she responded in a worried tone. "Are you sure you're ok?"

He filled the cup with water, bringing it up towards his chest. "Really, I'm fine, I'm just-" he puts the cup to his lips, "I'm just feeling kinda weird." He takes a couple of sips.

"Well, when I get home I'm gonna make you feel something else… something… hot."

He chokes as he sets the glass down on the counter, coughing endlessly as he bangs on his chest.

"Babe, are you alright?" she asks on the other end.

"Yeah," he manages to reply with a brief break from his coughing fit. "Just-can I call you back?"

"Uh… actually, I gotta go back anyway. But I'll see you when I get home. Feel better, ok?"

"Yeah, I will," he sighs, "I will."

"I love you."

Now, more than ever, it had become very difficult for him to say the same thing meaningfully. It's not that he didn't; she just wasn't Sam. It didn't feel right.

He struggled, but managed to blurt out: "I love you too."

She sighs. "Bye honey."

"Bye," he says before hanging up and putting the phone on the counter, sliding it away from him.

He puts his head in his hands and lets out a long groan. His feelings were so mixed up. How could he be so confused about what he wants? He loves Sarah with all of his heart; he had to have or he wouldn't have asked her to marry him. But now that he knows about Sam, it's as if all of the memories and emotions are flooding back like a stream from a broken dam. He couldn't control it, and not matter what he did, even if he did it with Sarah, all he could see was Sam.

Today didn't make the situation any better. It only intensified what was already there.

He stares blankly at the marble counter, picking out the patterns that attracted his attention. He saw the droplets of parts of the water that escaped his mouth, layered in colonies that travel outwards. He focuses in one of the drops.

Drops of water.

Sam loves the rain.

He smirked at the vivid memory of the very night that Sam and him had officially made love.

 _Him and Sam were coming back home from their local movie theater. It was so close to Danny's home, and the movie tickets were pretty cheap. They'd always invite Tucker and the three of them would go any opportunity that they had, but on this particular night Tucker was sick. They had already paid for the tickets and didn't want to waste an evening, so they decided to go without him. Danny could've gone ghost and flew them there, but sometimes he just wanted to be like normal kids and take walks. Sam couldn't have agreed more. "Walking is good for you anyway," she'd say._

 _They saw the movie, loaded up on a bunch of junk food and then made their way home. The temperature had dropped a bit more than either one of them expected. Sam, being unaware of Mother Nature's switch up, wore a short sleeved shirt and needless to say froze her butt off. Danny laughed and took off his jacket, putting it over her shoulders._

" _I guess neither one of us really came prepared for the weather, huh?" he said._

" _Yeah, no joke," she scowled._

 _They walked in silence, taking their time since they had already walked a block and a half and only had five more to go. It was fine with Jack and Maddie if they took a bit longer than expected, since they lived in a small town where everyone knew everyone and Danny was with someone they could trust. He put his arm around her shoulder and she laid her head down, resting up against him._

" _Are you getting tired?" he asked her._

" _Yeah, a little bit," she replied with a yawn. "To be honest, I don't really want to go home tonight. My parents have been going through some rough patches relating to work and they've been arguing non-stop."_

" _Why don't you crash at my place tonight?" he offered. "Mom and Dad won't care, and I'm sure it'll be fine with your parents. I think they actually like me now, considering that everyone now knows about my double life."_

" _Yeah, well," she says, peeking up at him, "they were bound to find out sooner or later."_

" _I guess," he said. "But I kinda miss it being just between you, me, Tucker and Jazz. I feel like… the less people that know the more special it is."_

 _Sam looked up at him. "Hey, that's not true. You're still pretty damn special, if not to everyone else then to me and Tucker. Besides, how many other people can say that have a boyfriend that's half ghost?"_

" _I'd hope no one," he chuckled. "Or else the Fenton family business is a bit bigger than I thought."_

 _Sam gave him a faint smile. As they kept walking, they noticed that most of the lights were out with the exception of just the dimly lit street lights that occupied the road. It was easier to see all of the stars in the sky, which made Sam especially excited._

" _Oh my God," she whispered, "I never realized how beautiful the sky is until now. You can actually see all of the stars."_

" _That's surprising," he said, moving his arm from resting on her shoulders to holding her hand. "Usually there's so many lights on that you can't even see the north star."_

" _Yeah," she said._

 _Danny couldn't help but stare at her as she looked up at the sky. She was so… gorgeous. The way that her eyes twinkled and her smile brightened when she talked about something she was so passionate about. It was times like this where he wished he could stay in the moment for the rest of his life. Being with her made him so certain; just one look and he knew why he had fallen so madly in love with her._

 _She jerked her head back slightly as she felt a drop of rain land just below her eye. She wiped it with her fingers, using the luminosity of the streetlight to see the shiny liquid on her skin._

" _Oh, great," she muttered, "it's starting to rain."_

" _Well, that's ok, we only have like three more blocks to go."_

" _It's ok. I don't mind the rain," she turned and looked towards him. "I just don't want you to get soaking wet since I took your jacket."_

" _I don't mind," he shrugged. "I'll dry fast."_

 _One drop turned into three. Then three turned into eight. Pretty soon it had been drizzling. The couple had almost made it home when the rain began falling so hard that they had to seek some type of shelter. They ran just underneath the tarp of the entrance to the candy shop. They took a breath. Sam was much closer to dry than Danny was, who had been completely soaked from head to toe. He looked as if he had taken a bath with his clothes on._

 _Sam giggled at him and he rolled his eyes._

" _You're lucky that chivalry isn't dead," he pouted._

" _Aw, poor baby," she cooed. "A little rain never hurt nobody."_

 _His eyebrows raised and he cupped his hand out to catch some water and, when she wasn't paying attention, chucked it at her face. She gasped as he pointed and laughed at her. She didn't have to see her face to know that her makeup was smearing. She felt the mascara melt off of her eyelashes._

" _Danny!" she groaned. "Come on man!"_

" _What? 'A little rain never hurt nobody'."_

" _Yeah, but my makeup is coming off. Now you're going to see me in my true form and it's hideous."_

 _He gazed into her eyes and placed his hand under her chin, lifting her head up._

" _I've never seen a more beautiful girl until I met you."_

" _Yeah, you're just saying that because we're dating. Remember that you used to have a thing for Paulina?"_

" _I was a lot younger," he said, "and a lot dumber. Trust me," he moved in closer, "Paulina doesn't even compare."_

 _She stared. "Are you sure?"_

" _I'm more than sure, Sam," he held her hands in his. "I don't want to be with Paulina. I want to be with you."_

" _Forever?" she asked._

" _Forever," he smiled. He leaned in and, after she met halfway, they kissed. It was a long, dragged out kiss. The sound of the rain pouring down filled their ears, drowning out all doubt-all thoughts. She moaned as he glided his tongue along her bottom lip and, grinning, she let them part to give him room to slide it into her mouth. He pulled her closer at the waist; she crossed her arms around his neck._

 _When they finally parted, his hand moved up to grasp her jaw and hers to grab touch his neck, he moved his lips to her ear, whispering suggestively, "I think I know what we can do tonight."_

 _She pulled back to look at his face. "Is it the same thing I'm thinking?"_

" _I think that it is." He grabbed her hand and they ran out into the now calmer rain, quickly making their way to Danny's house._

Danny didn't realize that he had slid back into reality until his eyes hit the marble pattern. He looked around, disappointed and heartbroken. He had almost forgotten that everything that had happened in the past twelve hours was real: finding Sam, seeing how hurt she was…

Meeting the man that bruised her.

He felt his teeth grind.

He refused to give up on her.

Whatever it took, he _had_ to get her out of there.

He picked up his phone and moved closer towards the dining table, dialing a number.

It wasn't a horrible idea, but it was a long shot.

He held the phone up to his ear and listened to the ring before the other end finally connected.

"Hello?" the voice greeted him.

"Hey man… it's me. Look, I know I'm the last person you want to talk to-"

"Mm, not the last. Maybe _one of_ the last."

"Tucker, this is serious!" He took a seat. "It's Sam… she's in trouble."

…

 **Author's Note: Hey guys! So I wanted to touch on something before officially closing this chapter.**

 **Number one, I'm sorry for being so inactive! I still write more stories even if I don't post them a lot on here. It's just I've been so busy with college and stuff that it's been a quite a load on me. But I'm on a month long break, so I'll be doing plenty of writing ahead of time, and I'm gonna make sure it's juicy.**

 **Number two, THANK YOU SO MUCH TO THOSE OF YOU WHO FAVORITE/FOLLOW MY STORIES AND/OR ME! It means so much to me! It motivates me to come back and post more because I actually really do care about making you guys happy and I read your reviews! I pay attention to you guys and I know what you guys want! So thank you, from the bottom of my heart!**

 **Also, I'm thinking about renaming this story. Anyone have any ideas? Drop them in the reviews and let me know!**

 **I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! There will definitely be more in the making, even if I don't post until like next year. (Hopefully, it won't be that long)**

 **'Til next time!**


	3. Consternation

**Hey guys! So a quick author's note before we continue on. This is in regards to the reviews left on the previous chapter, so if you're not interested in this, you can just scroll/swipe down until you no longer see bolded words.**

 **I see a couple of you guys asking questions and predicting what will happen towards the end of the story (because if you've been following me for the past few years, you know my writing style). Let me just say: I LOVE when you guys do this. It shows me that you guys are interested in my story, and you have no idea how much that means to me. I thought that I'd respond with some bullet points to the best of my ability,** **without spoiling anything,** **starting with the most common one which is:**

\- " **What happened between Tucker and Danny?"**

 **So I can't really say too much, other than what you guys already know. Obviously, since this takes place after all of the events of the show (specifically Phantom Planet), you know that Tucker stayed in Amity Park to uphold his position as mayor. Danny's plan was to stay home and possibly go to school there or choose to continue the family business. You know that Sam moved away from New York-away from Amity Park-and left for New Jersey, so of course they got separated. All I can really say** _ **despite**_ **this is that even though this story is mainly about Sam and how her life has changed and the abusive relationship she's in, I will be going in depth with the relationships surrounding her, such as that with her parents, Danny's parents, Tucker, etc. After all, a lot has changed from the time she left home to what's happening in the present, which brings me to my second bullet point:**

\- " **Sam used to be so badass, strong, and confident. This was her character even in the show. What the hell happened?"**

 **This, my friends, is what abuse does to you. Not even just physical abuse, but mental, emotional, verbal, sexual, etc. It starts off with the little things, like insulting your partner based on their looks i.e. "You're getting fat" "You need to get on a diet"... and then it gets moderate i.e. isolating you from your loved ones, punching things on shelves, throwing furniture, punching holes in walls… and then it becomes severe i.e. making threats, pushing, shoving, kicking, slapping, punching and in some cases sexual assault. Then when the storm dies down, they whip out the boxes of chocolate and flower bouquet talking about how they're sorry and they'll change and all that bullshit, but in some cases (not all), that stops too, and then they just get downright controlling (*depending on the person. See last bullet point). Who Sam was and who she is now is the result of** _ **what is happening to her.**_ **If you can't take anything else away from this, take this: Sam had to deal with this for** _ **10 years.**_ **To give you an idea of the timeline, she left for college at 18, met Josh at 19 and married him at 21. All in all, they dated for two years and have been married five.** _ **This is more than enough time to build someone up and tear them down;**_ **it's not as if Sam became like this overnight. Abuse is one of the worst things that can be inflicted on someone-first you see the person that you love change, then you see yourself change. Yes, Sam was all of those things and more. Key word: was. But after all of this, she's just not anymore.**

\- " **Are Sam and Danny going to have an affair?"**

 **I can't answer that, sorry, but I'll give you a hint: silietlky'. Next:**

\- " **Is Sam going to get pregnant with his child and will Josh think it's his?"**

 **Ohhhh, I bet you guys would like that wouldn't you? I can't answer that, either, no hints given. VERY sorry. Yeah, I'm an asshole sometimes. Next:**

\- " **Doesn't Sam have a career?"**

 **I will be talking about this in the story, but I'll talk about it here too. Yes, Sam did have a career. She graduated with a degree major in animal science and sociology and a minor in photography and got to do what she had always dreamt of: working with animals. But after the abuse started, she was forced to terminate her job, making Josh the only breadwinner. By the way, this is actually the number one most common reason that abuse victims don't leave their abusers: fear of financial instability, among many others. If you want to know more, this is a good place to start: www . psychologytoday blog / toxic-relationships / 201706 / the-truth-about-abusers-abuse-and-what-do (since FF sucks with links, idk take the spaces out-don't be lazy)**

\- " **Why was he so blunt when he was in front of Danny? He's either narcissistic or confident or both."**

 **There are so many different forms of abuse: Munchausen Syndrome by proxy, narcissistic abuse, sociopathic abuse (or a mixture of the two, usually called 'malignant narcissism and sociopathy), and more. Josh falls more into the category of MNS, to which in some cases, abusers will be passive aggressive to their partners even in a public display. This honestly just depends on the person. Some abusers will hide their dominative behavior, acting like a complete sweetheart in public; others will do what Josh does and honestly not give a shit. There are some abusers who will** _ **flat out hit their partner in public-it really does happen.**_ **There are many factors that contribute to it. I'd list them all, but it's currently a quarter 'till 2:00AM as I write this and I don't have all night for that and you didn't come here to read all that. You came to read a story.**

 **Now, with all of that being said, I think I've talked long enough. Let's continue, shall we?**

 **WARNING: This chapter gets kinda graphic with physical violence. Please proceed with caution.**

* * *

 **~S~**

Another hard night bled into another hard morning. The breeze flying into the room through the cracked window made the transparent, silky white curtains flutter. The light rays from the blindingly bright sun begged Sam to get up. She tried blocking it out with one of her pillows, which dangled over the left half of her face. She turned her head, burying it deeper into the bed, her left leg dangling off the side.

The previous night had been awful.

The only thing more exhausting than having sex with Josh is pretending that sex with Josh was actually enjoyable.

She moved her left hand back, turning her body slightly, to check and see if he was still there.

He was gone. Sam had almost forgotten that he has a job, what with him beating on her for what felt likes hours and hours on end.

 _He must have left early,_ she thought. _Good. I can't face him right now._

She groaned, picking herself up to a sitting position, the comforter tangled around her right leg. She stretched herself out and slowly rose to her feet. It was a weird feeling: so numbing and newfound as if she had been walking for the first time. Her body was stiff and sore. Her brain not mentally prepared to start the day.

Had Josh really wore her out that badly?

She started towards the mirror, lifting up her nightgown and taking a look at herself. She had small bruise marks on the outsides of her thighs from when Josh had gripped them. New bruises had formed on top of the older ones on her wrists. The marks traveled up to lead to the ones on her waist, less visible to the eye. She was pale in comparison to her actual skin tone. She had even noticed that the color in her eyes was less saturated.

It was as if he had been literally sucking the life out of her.

She let out a sigh, bringing her face closer to the mirror. She rubbed her face with the palms of her hands, tapping them lightly to wake herself up.

 _This has to be a dream,_ she thought. _I'm going to wake up from this… and I'll be in Danny's arms. He'll hold me and tell me everything's ok. That it was all just a nightmare. That nothing has changed. That he's right there beside me._

This wasn't the only time Sam had confided in such hope. She spent a lot of nights thinking she'd wake up and everything would be different, but each strike inflicted on her fragile frame was like an alarm, stunning her awake to what was really happening.

After that, it became more about wishing she could rewind time and do everything all over again.

Sam shook her head.

 _I need to get ahold of myself. I can't show him a weak… he likes that. I'm not going to give him the satisfaction._

She goes to her dresser, taking out sweatpants and a white long sleeved shirt along with a clean pair of underwear and a bra. Sometimes she'd be too lazy to even think about showering, but she hated the smell of him on her skin. She wanted to wash away every trace of him. As she bundled up the clothes in her arms went to open her bedroom door, she stopped to see a hanging picture on the wall just above the dresser.

It was her and Josh the day they got married. It was right after they cut the cake, and before either one of them went in for a kiss, she took a piece of frosting and dabbed it on his nose. He jerked his head back and jokingly groaned. He took a sliver of frosting and smeared it on her cheek. She laughed and they went in, their lips touching one another's.

Sam felt teary eyed.

 _Has that picture always been there?_

She had seen it one other time before, but could've sworn it was stashed away with all of her other wedding photos. Had Josh recently taken it out and put it on the wall for her to see? Maybe it was always there, but Sam just ignored it. Either way, it hurt too much to look at it.

Maybe it was always there. Maybe Sam did ignore it.

After all, she couldn't even recognize the man that she saw anymore.

She abruptly opened the door and made her way to the bathroom, stripping down and turning on the water. It fell in streaks on her palm, putting her mind at ease. She loved taking hot showers, especially if Josh wasn't around to pester her into letting him join her. Once it was at just the right temperature, she stepped in and closed the curtain, letting the water hit her face and travel back to swim through her hair.

Her first instinct was to grab the body wash, but she was part of the normal population of people who started off washing their hair. (A/N: if you don't do this seriously are you even showering properly?) She reached out, her fingers latching onto the lavender shampoo and after putting a quarter size amount in her hand, she set it back down and began to lather it into her scalp. The falling suds gradually racing towards her eyes gave her an excuse to close them. As she did, she dove into her memories, thinking of the time that her and Danny were opening college acceptance letters together. After saving the planet from the gigantic hurdling asteroid, and the revelation of Danny's ghost half to the entire world, Sam's parents had finally put their differences aside. They started familiarizing themselves with Danny's parents. They spent holidays with them. They got along with them. Even Tucker and his parents would tag along.

Sam smiled.

 _She nudged Danny with her elbow. He winced and held his arm._

" _Ow," he groaned._

" _Oh shut up," she laughed. "It didn't hurt that bad."_

" _I don't know if you've realized this before but you're pretty tough for your size."_

 _Sam rolled her eyes before taking out her final letter, sent from Princeton University. Danny grabbed a hold of his and tossed the previous one in the pile of opened ones. So far, Sam had been accepted to every single prestigious private school that she applied for. Meanwhile, Danny hadn't been as lucky. Out of the thirty envelopes that Sam opened, she was accepted by twenty eight; out of the twenty-seven Danny had opened, he was accepted to sixteen. This was for obvious reasons, as Sam was not only rich but a straight A student. Danny, on the other hand, had to get financial aid and only maintained a 3.4 GPA._

 _Any school would be lucky to have him, but they'd be even luckier to have Sam._

 _Everyone wanted her._

 _Maddie, Jack, Pamela and Jeremy had gathered into the kitchen, standing on the sides of their own children. Pamela smiled with joy._

" _Is that it?" she asked. "Is that the letter from Princeton?"_

" _Yeah," Danny replied._

" _Oh, man," she sighed. "I really hope I get accepted. Princeton is one of the best schools out there."_

" _I know you will, Sammie," he touches her shoulder to comfort her. "I have faith in you."_

 _She takes a deep breath and slides her finger beneath the lips, shimming it open and sliding out the folded up paper. With her other hand, she grabs a hold of Danny's, and he gives hers a squeeze for reassurance. Pamela places her hand on Jeremy's chest. Jack and Maddie lean in._

 _She unfolds it and reads it._

" _Dear Samantha Manson," she begins, "I would personally like to congratulate you on your acceptance to Princeton University!"_

 _Everyone cheers, and she looks over at Danny and smiles. She was relieved to have been rid of all doubt. She couldn't help but see slight disappointment in Danny's eyes, and from that Sam completely understood. Danny and her were going to be separated. It wasn't a feeling either one of them was comfortable with._

 _Jeremy grabs her shoulders and gives her a joyous shake. "Congratulations, honey!"_

 _Sam continues to read. "Our school is full of many opportunities for various types of students who want to succeed at whatever they put their minds to. For you, in particular, we have an animal science program that is the utmost superb and a photography field that will give you a chance to show your artistic eye to the rest of the world. It would be an honor if you joined us next year, with an opportunity to take advantage of our full ride scholarship._

" _We await your response and hope to be your school of choice. Warm regards, Christopher L. Eisgruber-President of Princeton Ivy League."_

" _Oh, Sam," Pamela cried, "I'm so proud of you!"_

" _Congratulations Sam," Maddie said._

" _We never doubted you for a second," Jack chimed in._

 _Sam turned to look at Danny, who had been so absorbed in thought that he forgot that he, too, had a letter to open. All attention immediately turned to him._

" _Well, Danny," Maddie said. "Come on, open yours!"_

" _Oh," he said, taking his head out of the clouds, "yeah, sorry. I forgot."_

 _He sat up and tore the lip, reaching in to grab the folded letter. Sam's eyes caught a glimpse of the stamp: University of Colorado Boulder. She felt her heart drop into her stomach. They were going to be separated after all. Very separated._

 _He unfolded the letter and began to read silently, mouthing the words his eyes caught as he traveled the page._

" _Well, what does it say?" Pamela pried._

" _It says," his shoulders slumped, "that I got accepted."_

 _The four parents cheered, but Sam knew better. Danny wasn't happy at all. She read him like a book. Maddie and Jack grabbed ahold of his arms._

" _Sweetie, you should be happy," Maddie said._

" _Yeah, son! You're going places!" Jack exclaimed._

" _Oh… yeah," Danny smirked._

 _Sam sighed. "Hey, guys, could you give me and Danny a minute to talk? We'll be out there when we're done."_

 _They all looked at each other, and nodded, agreeing to give them space. They left the kitchen, leaving the air dry and tense. Sam leaned in and touched his back._

" _Danny," she started, "we talked about this."_

 _He nodded faintly. "I know… I know. I just… I didn't think it'd actually happen."_

" _You don't have to leave," she said. "You can stay here and go to school." She reached out and took his hands in hers. "I can stay here."_

" _No way, Sam," he shook his head, looking into her eyes. "Princeton has been your dream school since we were kids. I could never hold you back from that."_

" _You mean more to me than some uppity rich kid school," she said. "I want a future with you."_

" _Your future with Princeton means more. That's a great school, Sam, and they're offering you a full ride! You can't turn that down… I won't let you turn that down."_

" _There will be other schools, Danny! I mean look at this," she said grabbing a handful of open acceptance letters and dropping them back into place. "So many others, that are much closer to home! This doesn't have to be the end; I won't trade you! And what about you, huh? UCB has an amazing space program. You'll feel right at home there!"_

" _Who cares?" he shot back. "How can I feel at home knowing you'll be so far away?"_

" _Danny, it doesn't have to be like that."_

" _Then you tell me, Sam. Tell me how I'm supposed to deal with it?"_

" _I don't know, Danny; you just have to!"_

" _I'm not going anywhere."_

" _Yes, you are."_

" _Then you're going to Princeton."_

" _So now I'm taking commands from you? That's rich."_

" _God damn it, your so fucking-"_

" _So fucking what?" she snipped. "What!?"_

" _Stubborn! You're so fucking stubborn!"_

" _Yeah, well that shouldn't be news to you!"_

" _It's not!"_

" _Well you're sure as hell acting like it is!"_

" _Really?"_

" _Yeah, really!"_

 _Danny rushes in and kisses her, and she falls into it. He puts more passion in it with each passing second, and it was as if Sam could feel how upset he was. As the kisses started weakening, so did his heart. Danny had started crying; Sam was on the verge. They pulled apart and he retreated to her neck, kissing it over and over again, working his way up to her cheek. They hugged. His arms were locked. He didn't want to let her go; she didn't want him to._

" _I'm gonna miss you so much," he cried._

" _I know," her voice quivered, "but it's not over, ok? It's not over."_

" _Sam," he mumbled into her neck. "I don't say this enough… but I love you. I love you so much."_

" _You never had to… because I already know. I love you too."_

 _They held each other, feeling nothing but swollen hearts and melancholic thoughts. They didn't want go, and even though they knew this wouldn't be the end, it felt like it was. The way he kissed her was as if it'd be the last time he'd ever get to, and that broke Sam's heart more than anything._

Drops of cold water dematerialized her memory, bringing her back to reality.

The broken reality.

More broken than Sam's heart has ever been.

She had been completely on autopilot, taking notice that she had already rinsed out the shampoo, conditioned her hair and washed her body. She had been so deep in thought that she had used up the hot water.

She wished more than anything that it was more than just one of the many memories she had with Danny.

She wondered where she'd be now if both of them had chosen to stay home rather than part ways.

Would she still be reminiscing in the shower, but to be happy every time she opened her eyes to the real world?

Would she look forward to getting out of bed every day rather than struggle?

Would she be given more to live for rather than less?

She turned the water off and opened the curtain, stepping out to grab a towel to dry herself off. With pruning fingers, she wiped the condensation from the mirror to see herself.

Josh was killing her: physically, emotionally and mentally.

It was bizarre to think that one minor decision created a ripple effect that changed her life forever, and any one of them would have caused a different fate for her had she chosen the alternate route.

All she had to do was choose to stay home for college.

All she had to do was say "no thank you" to Josh.

All she had to do was not show up at the altar and claim she got 'cold feet'.

But instead, she wakes up wanting to die instead of wanting to live.

She grabbed her bra and clasps it, her breasts sitting comfortably inside, and threw her shirt on right on top of it. Once she was dry enough, she slipped into her panties (A/N: omg ugh) and put her sweatpants on, sliding them up to her waist. Getting fully dressed was most of the battle. The only direction to go from there was up.

She washed her face, rubbing it with her morning scrub before rinsing it off and brushing her teeth-a morning routine she tried to do every day but seemed more like a chore.

Finishing off in the bathroom, she put on socks, grabbed a pair of shoes and rushed downstairs. The house had hardly ever been this calm. Standing at the bottom of the stairs gave her a perspective she seldom got to see. The shards of glass from the broken vase still lay sprawled across the dining room floor. Chairs had been turned. Empty beer bottles were cluttered together. The gaping hole in the dining room wall didn't look nearly as small as she thought when she first looked at it.

She'd rather it be that than her head.

Sam sighed and put her shoes on. She was just thankful that she wasn't immediately greeted with a plate being thrown at her. She yearned for a peaceful morning, and this is the best she'd gotten in months.

She lived in fear that at any minute, Josh was going to come walking through the front door, yelling and swearing at her, grabbing her by her neck and slamming her against the dining room table. That was on a good day.

But she knew that he was working long shifts the entire week; Josh wouldn't be home for a while.

She didn't have to worry about any of that until at least fourteen more hours.

She didn't even want to eat breakfast. She wasn't hungry anyway. She never had enough of an appetite to eat in a place that felt more like a torture chamber than a home.

She walked to the front door, grabbing her purse and as she opened the door, she jumped back in fright.

She relaxed when she saw it was only Danny.

He sure scared the shit out of her.

"Oh, God," she sighed. "It's just you."

"Come on, Sam," he said. The look on his face told her he was on a mission. She looked at him carefully, raising an eyebrow.

"'Come on' where?"

"I'm getting you help. I'm going to get you out of here."

…

 **~D~**

 _Sixteen hours previous_

If there was one thing Danny hated more than anything, it was silence on the other end of a phone call. It gave him time to ponder, and he struggled to determine if the person on the other line was going to hang up on him or say something else. It was awkward when he went through it with businesses and companies whenever he was trying to ask about a bill, but even more so when it was a family member of a friend.

Or, in this case, an ex-friend.

"Trouble?" Tucker asked. "What kind of trouble?"

"Deep trouble," Danny replied in a worried tone. "She's married to this guy, alright, and he's a total asswipe. He's violent, and he beats on her and… she practically pisses her pants whenever he walks within six yards of her. She's scared, and she needs help."

"Danny, this isn't funny," he says with a scold, "if this is your way of crying wolf and trying to get me to talk to you again-"

"Tucker, are you fucking kidding me right now?" Danny snapped. "Why would I lie about this!? This isn't something to joke about!"

"Maybe because of the fact that neither of us have talked to each other in over five years."

"She lives right next door to me, Tucker… if you could see her-see who she is now. She's not even the same person anymore. It's like… every time I look at her, it's like I'm looking at a shell. She used to be so full of life... and now it's like… it's like he's taken it right out of her."

Danny breathed. His knees shook. All of him shook. "Tucker, I'm begging you… I need your help. I don't know what to do… she needs this… she needs _us._ "

"God," he said. Danny could hear the shock in his voice. "You really are serious… Sam is in this deep? How in the hell did I not see this coming?"

"What do you mean? Have you met this guy before?"

"Yeah… he came with her when she traveled back home after college. She was visiting family. She looked… happy. Like nothing was wrong. He was actually really laid back and polite… I didn't think the guy had that kind of… hate in him."

"I never asked her about the guy or anything. I can't even take her anywhere to talk to her privately. I'm assuming he never lets her leave the house when he's there, and if she does he knows where she is twenty-four seven. She's trapped, Tuck-the guy mind as well have put bars on the windows."

"Where do I come in?" he asks. "I mean, of course I want to help her, but… how?"

"If she managed to gather pictures, maybe statements from me or other neighbors, do you think that would be enough to go on?"

"You'd think," he says, "but you'll probably need something more than that."

"Like what?"

"Police would have to go in, check her home… but I don't think it's safe for her to be there when that happens. You need to make an exit plan. You need to get a protection order against him and get her somewhere far away-somewhere that he doesn't know."

"Where? He knows where I live, she'd never agree to go to a safehouse and her parent's house is a no brainer."

"Josh would figure out where she is in a second… but…" Tucker's voice trailed off. Danny could tell that he was onto something.

"But?"

"But he doesn't know where _your_ parents live."

Danny blinked. "That's… that's genius. Why didn't I think of that before?"

"But the hardest part of all of this is making her speak up. You have to convince her-convince her that everything will be ok. That she can trust you and trust that you can get her out of this."

"Don't worry. I will."

Tucker gets ready to hang up when Danny briefly catches his attention one last time.

"And Tuck."

"Yeah?" he asks.

"Thank you."

"Yeah well I'm not doing it for you," he said, "I'm doing it for Sam."

With that, the line clicks and Danny hears a dial tone. He disconnects the call.

He was glad that they could set aside their differences for once to get Sam out of harm's way. It meant more to him than anything.

Danny knew what he had to do.

And he knew just how to go about doing it.

...

 _Present_

Danny peeked his head outside, checking to see if Josh's car was in the driveway.

It was gone.

 _Good,_ he thought. _He's probably at work or something._

He steps out and shuts the door behind him, fixing the hoodie that he threw on before walking off the porch steps. He crosses the lawn, making his way up the walkway, but before he can even reach his hand up to knock, the door swings open.

Sam jumps as she sees him.

"Oh, God," she sighed. "It's just you."

"Come on, Sam," he said. The look on his face told her he was on a mission. She looked at him carefully, raising an eyebrow.

"'Come on' where?"

"I'm getting you help. I'm going to get you out of here."

Sam looks left and right. The neighborhood is oddly quiet. Usually people were out mowing their lawns or walking dogs, but today it seemed a bit more gloomy than it typically was. Something was… out of place. Abnormal.

Sam must have sensed it too.

"Danny, it really isn't safe to be here."

"Sam, please," he begged. "I think I know a way to help you. But you have to come with me."

"What if he comes home?" she asked. "He threatened me, Danny. He told me that if I went anywhere near you… if I talked to you…"

"What? He's gonna do what?" Danny holds his arms out. "He's not going to hurt me, Sammie."

"How do you know that?"

"Because you know me," he said. "Ok? I can take care of myself. I can take care of you. I could never put you in harm's way; I'll have you back here before he even knows you've gone."

He holds out his hand, palm facing up. She looks at it, her eyes scanning it cautiously.

"It can't hurt, Sam. This could be our only chance."

She breathes and slowly reaches out to take it. He helps her off the porch and walks her to his house. He had this paranoid feeling that the neighbors were watching them from inside their houses, looking out the window. He pulled her closer and led her into his house. She walked in first, and Danny stepped in behind her closing the door.

"I know we could've done this at your house, but I didn't want to risk leaving something there and him catching on."

"It's ok," she says. "I was on my way to you anyway."

"You were?" he asks, looking back at her.

She nods. "Yeah."

He watches as she looks around, taking in her surroundings. His eyes met her gaze; she was admiring the decor.

"Wow," she gasps. "This place is so… exquisite."

"Uh," he clears his throat, "Sarah is an interior designer. She decorates other people's houses, and as you can see, she wasn't afraid to do the same to ours."

"I like it," Sam speaks in a low voice. "It's beautiful."

"Thanks."

She turns and looks back at him. "Where is she?"

"She's at work."

"Is it… a problem that I'm here? Does she know about me?"

"Uh," Danny rubs the back of his head. "I've mentioned you in passing: about how we used to be a couple long before I met her. But you living next door? I forgot to mention that part."

"She's not… the jealous type, is she?"

"Nah," he says. Sam gives him a look. "Ok, well maybe a little bit. But trust me, what she doesn't know won't hurt her. This will just be between you and me. You're here for an important reason anyway."

He takes her by the hand and leads her to the dining room table, pulling out a chair for her. She takes a seat and he sits beside her. Danny whips out his phone, turning on his voice recorder and setting it down right in front of her. He set his arms up on the tabletop, leaning in closer.

"Sam," he starts. "I really need to know what's going on. Tell me everything. Don't spare a single detail. Everything could be useful."

Sam bites her lip. She had started shaking a little bit.

Danny grew incredibly worried. He's never seen Sam so lost… so scared.

It made him sick.

It made him angry.

It made him want to kill that son of a bitch husband of hers.

A lone tear had escaped her eye, and he raised his hand slowly to cup her face, making Sam flinch.

"It's ok," he says, pulling back slightly. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Her shoulders, once bunched up close to her ears, began to sink. Danny reached in once more and wiped the tear with his thumb.

"Whenever you're ready, Sammie. There's no rush."

"I don't even know where to begin," she shook her head. "I guess… I guess I'll start with when I met him."

Danny sat silently, keeping his eyes locked on her as she took him through meeting him at the coffee shop on her campus, going on their first date, planning their wedding and the day they got married. She told him his last name, Williams, and how innocent he was in the beginning.

"Sam…" he reached out and touched her hand, "when did he first hit you. What happened?"

Sam looked down, her eyes tracing the pattern of the carpet beneath them.

…

 **~S~**

"Sam…" he reached out and touched her hand, "when did he first hit you. What happened?"

She looked down, her eyes tracing the pattern of the carpet beneath them. She followed it as it spidered outward, leading to the crease where the carpet turned into tile for the kitchen.

 _I don't know if I can do this,_ she thought. _What if he finds out? What if I'm putting myself in even more danger? What if Danny can't do anything to help me? What if his plan doesn't work?_

She thought back to what she saw that morning: the bruises, her pale skin, her dulling eyes.

She had to fight back.

She knew that anything was better than taking hit after hit.

She had to put an end to this, and she had to do it now.

"It was almost two years ago," she started. "We were settling in… winding down from moving in. It was very stressful for both of us, like moving typically is. I…" she turned her hand to lace her fingers with Danny's. "I was feeling really sick. I was puking all over the place. I was hungry all the time. I slept more often. I thought it was just a bug."

She met her eyes with his. "I took a test… I was pregnant."

"Jesus, Sam," he said, sulking.

"I know, I know… but you have to remember that this is before anything went on. He was charming and sweet and… and I thought he'd be happy. I thought he'd understand." She began crying. Her throat closed up, invisible hands daring to strangle her to death. She persisted. "I told him and… and he got mad. We got into an argument. I said that I thought the he wanted to have a baby, and he told me that he did, but that he wanted to focus on his career first. I screamed at him and I threatened to leave… and he... " her shoulders began to shake, "he slapped me."

Sam could feel Danny squeeze her hand.

"I thought that what I said just angered him. I thought that giving him some space would make everything better. It did, for a little while. He came barging in, breaking down before me and apologizing over and over again about how he was just angry and that he lost his temper. That it would never happen again…" she shook her head, letting it drop. She closed her eyes, the tears threatening to fall harder, "it did."

"The bigger I got as the months went by, the angrier he got. Nothing ever escalated more than occasional slaps, punching things and knocking things off of shelves… but I hit five months… and s-... something horrible happened. He got drunk one night, the first time he'd gotten drunk since we'd been married, and he came busting in, telling me how I was a whore and how he was convinced that the baby wasn't his. I got up to leave, and he pushed me up against the wall. He started threatening me, telling me that he wanted a paternity test, but I kept telling him that it wasn't necessary because I knew that it was his. That I wasn't cheating on him. He thought that I was lying.

"He just let go of me and took a step back… there was something in his eyes… something I'd never seen before. He took the door and… he took the door and he slammed it back… the door handle… it hit my stomach. I remember how much pain I was in… and I grabbed my stomach and just slumped to the floor. I felt around…" she looks up at him, "he wasn't kicking… I got worried. I was scared… I felt wet. I looked down and… I saw… blood… like, a lot of blood…"

"Oh, my God," Danny whispered, "Sam… Sam, he didn't… did he…?"

She nodded, the tears pouring down her face now. "He took me to the hospital once he realized what was going on and… the doctors told me I miscarried."

"Oh God… Sam… Sam, I'm so sorry… I…" He sounded shocked. Sympathetic.

There it was again: that feeling buried in her soul.

The emotional cord that linked them.

Sam almost instantaneously felt a wave of numbing. She gazed up at him, and notice that he was completely out of it as he reached up and paused the voice recording. It didn't even look like he was aware of what he had done.

She felt his mood shift completely, almost as if something somewhere inside of her was set aflame. She saw, in the corner of her eyes, his shoulders lock. "That son of bitch," Danny's face contorted. "That _fucking_ SON OF A BITCH!"

He went to stand up but Sam grabbed ahold of his forearm.

"Danny, don't-!"

"I'm gonna kill him, Sam!"

"Please just sit down-"

"Sam, he's taken everything from you-your dignity, your body and your own child! He hurt you… killed your baby… you're not pissed off about this!?"

"Of course I am! I've been pissed off since it happened!"

He began to breathe deeply. His eyes flashed green.

"Danny," she pleaded, " _sit down."_

"Let me go, Sam-"

"Sit down… please."

It took a second, but Sam had finally calmed him down enough to make him take a seat. When she was ready she continued the recorder and with a now tamed Danny, she moved on.

"After that, he got really depressed. He blamed me a lot… he started drinking more often and, well… let's just say the two aren't a very good combination. No matter what I said or did to defend myself, all he could see when he looked at me was a murderer. Like it's my fault that the doorknob hit the baby."

She sniffed, wiping her nose and sighing. "He would've been about a year old now. The door right across from us is the nursery that we decorated for him. I keep it closed because I just… I can't cope with what happened. And the rest is history… the way you saw him yesterday… that was him in a good mood."

The air around them was cloudy.

She felt like she was drowning underwater, every attempt to reach the surface to no avail.

He stopped the recording completely, his phone making a quiet, high pitched ding.

"Oh Sam…" his voice voice as smooth as silk. "Oh, I'm so sorry."

"It isn't your fault, Danny," she shook her head. "Never forget that."

"But it is, I… wasn't there for you… and you needed me. Just… fuck…"

Danny stood up and circled around the chairs, pacing back and forth. Sam turned to look at him. For the life of her she couldn't figure out what was going through his head.

Did she come off too detailed?

Was she too brutal?

"So uh," she slouched, "what's next?"

"What's next is we tell Tucker what we know and we—"

"Tucker?" She repeated in a confused tone. "When did you talk to him?"

"Yesterday… when I got home."

"Oh… ok," she stammered, "and what does he suppose we do?"

"We have a plan. I know that somehow, it's going to work. We'll call Tucker and we'll talk you through everything together. I think, uh… the more support that you have, the better. Just hang tight, Sam." He grabbed his phone and pushed a couple buttons. "We're gonna fix this."

…

 **~D~**

"The guy's got quite the record," Tucker's voice boomed from the speaker. "...uh, am I on speaker phone?"

"Yeah, but it's safe to talk," Danny replied.

"Hey Sam," Tucker's voice sounded sincere.

"Hi Tuck," she responded. "It's so good to hear your voice again."

"We're gonna get you out of this, ok?" He said. In the background they could hear papers shuffling. "Anyway, I say that he has quite the record because there's nothing here."

"Nothing?" Danny asked. "Are you sure?"

"Not so much as a damn speeding ticket that he hasn't already attested for."

"Do you think… I'm the only one?" Sam spoke softly.

"Doubt it. Domestic violence usually starts early on. No doubt that he probably had a girlfriend in high school he did this to. Sam, I do have to ask: haven't you gone to the police about this?"

Danny looked at her. He had been wondering the same thing, but didn't want to offend her, so he kept it to himself. Sam slouched in disappointment.

"No."

Danny looked at her with pity. "Oh, Sam…"

"He threatened me… he told me that if I went to the police, he'd kill me. It doesn't matter anyway; they'd never believe me. Without solid evidence, they'd just say I did it to myself and that I'm lying."

"That's exactly why Danny and I have figured out what to do. Sam… I know this is a horrible question to ask… but are you ok with going back home again tonight? Just long enough for you to pack some of your things?"

She closed her eyes and gulped. "Josh will be gone until late at night… I think I'll be able to get some stuff together in time."

"Good. Once you do, Danny is going to drive you back to Amity Park. Do _not_ say anything to Josh about where you're going, who you're with or anything like that. Just get up and leave. Once he makes it here, he's going to take you to his parent's house and you're going to stay with them. When you're ready, he'll bring you here, to the courthouse, and you're going to have to speak up and tell them what's going on so that you can file a protection order.

"Sam, bring whatever proof that you can: pictures of holes in walls, broken furniture, marks on your body, any incidents that you may have documented on paper, audio or video footage. Tell them everything you know. _Everything._ Once that protective order is signed, you can go to the police and tell them what's happening. Give them the pictures. Since they only have jurisdiction in this town, they're going to contact the police where you and Danny are and they'll be able to fax the pictures over and make a report. No doubt they'll investigate, and they'll probably arrest him. He'll be in jail until his trial… and then, well… I just hope that you have the strength to face him on the stand."

"God, this is… a lot to take in…"

"Don't worry, Sam," Danny rubbed her back. "Me and Tucker talked this out."

"This is the best that we've got, Sam," Tucker said, "I just hope that for once, the judicial system doesn't suck."

"You guys…" she implored, "I don't know if I can do this. What if he catches on? He'll find me-find out where I am, and he'll kill me."

"Sam, he won't find out."

"We have your back, Sam," Tucker proclaimed. "With me and Danny by your side, we can get you out of this."

"Sam," Danny whispered, "we have to try."

She hesitated, but as she glimpsed into Danny's baby blue eyes, he could tell that she felt something she hadn't in a long time.

Hope.

…

The four hours they had spent together seemed to pass by as mere minutes.

Danny walked her to the door. She turned around, coming face to face with him.

"God," he whispered, "I don't know if I can let you go back there."

He pulled her in, wrapping his arms around her as if to keep her safe. She fidgeted with a piece of his shirt with her fingers.

"It's going to be ok, Danny," she said. "I won't be as scared knowing you're here to protect me."

He flashed her a smile. The same charming smile that made her fall in love with him.

"You're so brave, Sam."

She nodded silently. "I guess I am."

He cupped her chin, and noticed that her eyes had a little bit more color to them now. They weren't lifeless and gray anymore-they were the same sweet lavender eyes that both of them knew all too well. It put him to ease knowing that Sam could trust him-that when she was around, she could confide in him. And for just a second, he had pictured them in a happier place in a happier time. Then it was as if nothing else mattered.

He leaned in, and she closed her eyes as he kissed her.

The way that she tasted-it was the same way she tasted when he kissed her years ago. The way that her small frame fit perfectly in his arms was a sign from the universe that the two of them were made for each other. When he kissed her, he felt as if a fire ignited within him, and she was the only one with a match. She was the one that made his heart stop and beat faster all at the same time.

He never wanted to let her go.

The way that he felt both weightless and heavy.

She was like an addiction-intoxicating and pleasing.

Though time and distance had become their greatest obstacle, one thing was certain: no matter what, they were bound together forever.

…

 **~J~**

 **(A/N: before I move onto this part, yes this is in Josh's perspective.** **I am in no way condoning domestic violence.** **I am not an apologist and I won't make excuses for it-it's wrong no matter what reason is given to justify it. I'm just telling a story in a third person limited perspective, meaning that it surrounds the characters and what they're feeling, what they're seeing, etc. I think Josh is a piece of shit too, but there's two sides to every story.)**

He didn't know if it was the alcohol or the mere five hours of sleep that caused the pounding ache in his head. All he knew was that him getting home was all that mattered. He was exhausted, and had a hell of a time answering unnecessary questions such as "I never see Sam come around anymore" or "you guys never go out in public together" or "what gives with Sam? I haven't seen her in age".

He understood where they were coming from. When him and Sam first got married, they went out with his co workers and their spouses all the time. They'd go to bars just to have a couple of drinks. They went to clubs just let loose and dance. They'd all even joked about starting their own bowling team and competing with other people.

But ever since his drinking problem, all he ever really did anymore was go to work or shut himself inside his home. His relationship with Sam deteriorated, and every time he felt the urge to hit her, he thought back.

Where did everything go wrong?

He tried to distract himself from the light rays shining in his face. His mind traveled elsewhere, opening doors to memories and emotions that he tried to keep hidden. He knew somewhere deep down inside, he was not the man that he put himself out to be.

When he was sober, things were more clear. Not as cloudy. Not as jumbled together. He saw Sam the same way he saw her years ago at the coffee shop on their campus. The same way he saw her on the dates they went on together. The same way he saw her when she stood at the altar right in front of him. He loved her more than anything. The man that he was, _really was,_ never would have hurt her.

But when he drinks, it's as if he sees red. All he can think about is smashing furniture, breaking glass and punching holes in the walls. He'd get so angry, reach an absolute peak and then he'd just black out. Never remembering anything that he does once he descends into tranquility.

What happened with Sam the day she told him she was pregnant… it was a mistake. It was something that he shouldn't have done, and he knew it. He promised her he would get help, and he did, but it failed. Every AA meeting led to another popped cap; every therapist led to another dead end. Medications switched. Jobs replaced. But none of that mattered: the holes get bigger and the furniture gets broken.

As he pulled into the driveway, he knew in his heart that somehow he'd bring his true self out again. And Sam will be more than relieved.

She'll be happy. _Truly_ happy again.

He got out of the car and shut the door, making his way up the steps. Unlocking his door and opening it, he was greeted by the echoing halls before him.

It was quiet.

Very quiet.

Sam was always up and around doing something.

"Sam?" he called out. He closed the door behind him and set his keys down. "I know you're mad at me, but I want you to come out, ok? So we can talk about this, yeah?"

He checked in the living room. The dining room. The kitchen. All to no avail.

In a sense of panic, he rushed up the stairs, checking the bathroom and finally the bedroom.

Nothing but the sound of the spring breeze flowing through the open window greeted him.

At this point, he broke down, feeling his legs give out as he sank to the floor.

It was too late.

Sam was gone.

She had finally mustered up the courage to leave him.

And he couldn't get her back.

His whimpers turned to sniffles. His sniffles turned to heavy breathing. His breathing turned to grunts of anger.

He stood up, left the room and went back downstairs. If Sam wanted to leave him, fine. So be it.

 _Don't need the bitch around, anyway._

He made his way to the dining room pantry, taking out a bottle of whiskey before slamming the wooden door shut and twisting the cap off. He took a long swig, straight out of the bottle, eyeing the front door just down the hall before him.

 _She better hope she doesn't come back._

He hurled the cap towards the door.

…

 **~S~**

She knew how wrong it was-kissing another man when she was married.

When he was engaged.

But she couldn't help but melt into him, her small fingers closing up around his wrist.

Kissing Danny and kissing Josh were two completely different things. Even when Josh was the handsome man that sweet-talked his way into her heart at the cafe years back-the man that waited for her at the altar-whenever she kissed, she didn't feel anywhere near a rush as she felt kissing Danny.

He was the only one that could make her sink completely, losing all of her composure and being okay with it.

He was the only one that could make her feel as if gravity didn't exist and that she was floating.

He was the only one that could touch her, and turn her into jello.

She never felt for Josh the way she felt for Danny.

She was craving the adrenaline, and she was happy to feel it again.

He pulled back and looked towards the floor. "Shit, I'm sorry."

"No, it's ok," she whispered.

"How could I do that? You're struggling to get away from a man who's doing the same thing and I'm… I'm taking advantage of you."

"Danny…" she coos, her hands resting gently on his cheeks, "you did nothing wrong."

He nods. He opens the door for her, slowly letting her hand fall from his.

"Don't worry about me," she smiles at him, "I'll be fine."

And with that, Danny closes the door behind her, basking in her lingering presence.

She had left behind the smell of her perfume.

She stepped out on Danny's porch steps, the emotional high still wearing off. It's been so long since she felt loved-truly loved-and she yearned to feel it again.

She snapped out of her thoughts when she saw her driveway, and the familiar parked car in it.

Her blood ran cold.

Her face drained of all color.

 _He's home early… oh God… oh no._

She wanted to make a run for it.

She wanted to pound on Danny's door, begging him to let her back in.

But her paranoia got the best of her.

He could be watching through the windows.

" _If I see you with him, I'll kill him and then kill you with his corpse."_

His echoed words replayed on a loop in her head. The sudden thought made her get away from his house as quickly as she could.

Once she reached her lawn, she slowed her rapid pace to a lead-footed gait, but each step felt like she was moving in quicksand. How was she going to face him? How was she going to explain herself?

 _It's ok… just walk in, and when you see him, tell him you went for a walk._

She finally made her way to her door and, turning the doorknob, she took a deep breath before pushing it open, the creaking sound filling the hall. She entered into a dense and suffocating air. Not a second later after closing the door, she heard it.

The booming voice that fills her nightmares.

"Get in here, _now."_

She closed her eyes, clenching and unclenching her fists.

 _I'm strong,_ she thought to herself. _I can do this._

The hallways that she traveled down never felt so long. She dragged her feet for what seemed like five minutes until she came face to face with her drunkard husband. She eyed the whiskey bottle, noticing that he had downed the entire thing already.

She recognized it. He had just bought it two days ago. It hasn't even been opened since then.

 _My God,_ she thought. _He drank the entire thing._

"I know you're upset-" she started but he instantly interrupted her.

" _Sit down,"_ he hissed. She obeyed, pulling the closest dining room chair out and taking a seat. She felt pathetic-obeying every given command like a dog with its tail between its legs.

"Where were you?" he asked, twirling the remaining whiskey at the bottom of the bottle in circles.

"I was out… taking a walk," she answered in a low voice.

"Yeah? Didn't see you on the way here." He set the bottle down firmly, leaning in so close that his rancid breath blew into Sam's face. The smell of it nearly made her cough, but she held it in. She'd hate to see him even more angry than he already was.

"You over there… fuckin' your lil boyfrien'?"

"No. And he's not my boyfriend."  
"Tellme somethin', Sam… you know him?"

She didn't answer, but gave him a look that spoke louder than words. He scoffed, hanging his head back and laughing. It went on for a solid ten seconds. Sam was confused. What did he find so funny?

"Oh, no. Fuckin'. Wayyyy." He grinned widely, lifting his index finger and gesturing towards the right.

Towards Danny's house.

"He's the other guy?" She didn't speak up. He snapped his fingers, tapping his knuckles against the wood. "Oh, man… you know, Sam, you know what I'm talkin' about. The other guy? Huh? The one you were talkin' 'bout ten years ago when we meta tha coffee shop, yeah? You know?" he raised the pitch of his voice, as to impersonate Sam. "'I juss got out of a really good relationship'... all tha good stuff… he's the one, right?"

She refused to respond. She didn't want to rat Danny out.

She didn't want to make things worse for him.

She didn't want Josh to go after him.

"I saw the way you looked at him, Sam," he said. "I saw how he had his hands on you… you think I'm stupid?"

"No," she shook her head.

"Yeah, well… am I right? Is that the guy?"

Sam began to shake. She tried to think of something-anything-to change the topic, but Josh always gets what he wants.

"ANSWER ME!" he shouts, grabbing the head of the bottle and smashing it against the table. Where the rest of it shattered into broken glass that scattered on the floor, only a sharp tip remained. He held it up, as if he were using it as a weapon.

Sam could feel her heart stop. She quickly rose to her feet, the dining room chair falling down behind her. The sound that it made as it hit the floor made her jolt. This was the first time that Josh had ever threatened her with a weapon.

"Josh, what are you doing?" Sam panicked, holding her hand out as she backed away from him. "Come on, put that down."

"Juss tell me what I wanti know, Sam," he smirked. His gripped the shard so tight that his knuckles turned white.

"Honey, you're not thinking straight," she breathed, tearing up. "Please… put that down. You're scaring me."

"Scarin' you?" he repeated. Then, he lunged towards her, throwing her up against the wall, holding the shard to her neck. She screamed in terror, and he covered her mouth. "You being scared should be the least of your concerns. If you don't give me an answer to the question, I'm goin' to cut ya from here" he tapped on her forehead "to here" and moved to her breasts. He uncovered her mouth, a breath escaping her lips.

"Pick a number between one and ten," he commanded her. She sealed her eyelids and opened them back up, looking up at him. Panting, she managed to collect herself enough to mutter: "three."

"Ok. Thas how many seconds ya have before I start slicin'."

"Baby please, please don't do this-"

"Three."

"Honey, I can't. I can't tell you, please-"

"Two."

"Ba-aby," her voice skipped. "S-stop, please-"

"One," he pressed the tip against her forehead and she cried out in pain. "Ok! Ok! Yes!"

He pulled the broken bottle back. "Yes what?"

"Yes… he's the guy. The one I was talking about at the coffee shop."

"I see," he nodded, "and you're goin' next door while I'm at work, bringin' home moneyy to put food on your plate, ta put clothes on your back and ta take care of us… you're over there, _fuckin' him!?"_

"No, Josh, it's not like that!"

"I know exactly what this is…"

"Baby, please listen to me-"

She didn't even get to finish what she was saying before he sliced her left arm, leaving a deep cut going along her bicep. She yelped and grabbed ahold of it, falling to the ground. He dropped the bottle next to her, and as it hit the floor, it busted apart, a small piece of glass flying in Sam's eye. She managed to let it fall out by turning her face towards the floor, but not without accidentally cutting her eye in the process. He crouched down over. She tried to make out his face.

But only one of her eyes could see him.

She was curled up in a fetal position, lying on her side, and in the corner of her eye she could see blood pooling out from the deep gash on her arm. He gave her a look of disgust.

"When you're done actin' like you're dyin', clean this shit up, yeah?"

He stood up and walked off towards the hallway, going up the stairs.

And there she was, left there to bleed out on the floor. She laid her head down, being mindful of the shards of glass, and staring at the tile floor that covered the dining room and hallway.

The same yellow tile that she'd ended up falling onto two days before.

Falling… rather, being pushed onto.

Her swollen eye grew sore. Eventually the wound stopped bleeding.

But she didn't have the energy to get up again.

She didn't have the energy to keep fighting.

At this point, she'd wish that Josh would've just killed her and got it done and over with.

But instead, he kept her around to kick and punch and cut up.

She could hear her breathing get shallow as she traced her fingers against the cold tile.

The cold yellow tile.

It was better to feel the cool, hard floor beneath her than to feel the tightening sensation in her chest.

* * *

 **A/N: HOLY SHIT, for those of you that follow my story "For Better or Worse", I AM SO SORRY. I** _ **completely**_ **forgot that I never finished it! I have the newest chapter started but not finished! I'm definitely putting it on my bucket list!**

 **Next chapter for this will probably be out next week… maybe…? I don't know.**


	4. Extrication

**~S~**

Sam didn't move an inch the entire evening. She was numb, physically and emotionally-too shocked to even think about getting back on her feet. She used the kitchen floor as her bed, which after a while became a little bit more comforting. Her body heat had made the section she was lying on warm up. It didn't feel as hard as when she first met it; it seemed to blend in with the same mattress she slept on every night.

How did she end up like this? So strong, independent and confident; now broken, weak and foolish. It was a question she asked herself every day before she got out of bed, and every night before her head hit the pillow.

She awoke, looking left and right, confused as to why one eye was still completely shut. She had forgotten about the chunk of glass that hit her, causing it to swell and seal up. She knew she had to go to the hospital. She needed stitches; she needed her eye examined.

She pulled her left arm up, peeking at her bicep to see that the blood flow from the cut did slow down, but that it was still wide open. It looked pretty deep, enough that her muscle was probably sliced. But not bad enough to where she'd bleed to death.

 _He could've at least had the decency to finish me off,_ she thought.

She crawled herself into a standing position, slowly but surely, and took a step forward, thanking herself that she had left her shoes on when her ears were greeted with the crunching of glass. The room had spun around her. She felt like throwing up, crying, screaming and fainting all at the same time, but she had to keep herself together long enough to patch herself up. She slowly climbed up the stairs. The pressure that she put on her wound caused blood to leak out onto her hand. She groaned in pain, grabbing onto the handrail and pulling herself as hard as she could towards the top.

Whatever it took, she'd push onto the end.

She had to.

The stairs had never felt more endless. A simple twenty steps felt more like a hundred.

But she was almost to the end.

When she finally reached the top, she keeled over and puked, coughing up and spitting out the minuscule amounts of what was left over. She was glad that Josh had been long gone; he probably would've scolded her and shoved her face into it.

She flicked the switch on the bathroom light, the bulb illuminating so bright that it nearly blinded her. Her eyes adjusted, and she felt around reaching for the medicine cabinet. Her hand gripped the handle and she pulled it open. She turned her head slightly, using the only eye she could see out of to get what she needed.

 _Peroxide,_ she started listing items off in her head. _Cotton balls, needle, thread, gauze, tape… scotch._

She made herself chuckle when she thought of downing some alcohol to subside the pain.

 _Maybe stay away from alcohol for now... perhaps replace that with aspirin?_

She grabbed everything she needed and set them in the kitchen sink. She took a deep breath, taking the peroxide and pouring some on a group of small cotton balls she had mashed together to make a bigger one.

She hated this part.

Danny had always gotten hurt whenever they went ghost hunting, and Sam doubled as sidekick and medic. Every cut, wound or bruise that needed to be examined, she would be there with her first aid kit in hand.

Whoever said that peroxide doesn't sting should be sued.

 _This is gonna be such a pain in the ass._

She grit her teeth and, without a second more of hesitation, she pressed the peroxide up against her cut, crying out in pain as it stung for a good seven seconds. Once the pain subsided, she took deep breaths as she began patting the cotton all along the rest of her wound.

She remembered all too well one of the first times she had to patch Danny up.

 _A knock on her window went unnoticed. She had been lying down in her bed, listening to music and reading an occult book. When she didn't respond, Danny phased in and reappeared. It was definitely Sam's room, alright: the plum purple wall paint, the candlelit atmosphere, the darkly themed posters hanging up. He didn't think that she'd ever grown out of it._

 _He didn't want her to anyway._

 _He walked towards her. She didn't recognize him at first but rather, she saw a figure just walking towards her._

 _She went to scream, but he quickly covered her mouth._

" _It's just me," he reassured her._

" _Danny?" she asked. She smacked his arm. "Fuck, man… you scared the shit out of me."_

" _Sorry," he said, holding his hand up against his stomach. "I, uh… kind of got into a bit of a bind."_

 _She set the book down, a worried look on her face as her eyes immediately fell on his stomach. She crawled on her hands and knees towards the end of her bed where Danny had taken a seat._

" _What happened?" she questioned him. It was more like an interrogation. "Did you go ghost fighting without us again?"_

" _No… I mean… not intentionally."_

" _Danny-!"_

" _My ghost sense went off, Sam. How am I supposed to just wait for you guys?"_

 _She rolled her eyes, reaching down to grab the first aid kit underneath her bed. She set it down beside her and opened the lid. "Who was it?"  
_ " _Who do you think?" he scowled. "Skulker."_

" _When is he not flying around causing trouble? Was Ember with him?"_

" _Shockingly, no," he sighed. "He was trying to rob a closed jewelry store. Things got… pretty nasty."_

" _How nasty?" Sam asked, reaching for his hand. He uncovered it to show a deep gash, blood still leaking out of it. "Oh, Danny…"_

" _Don't worry about me, Sam," he said in reassurance, "it doesn't hurt nearly as bad as it looks."_

" _I'm glad you came to me right away," she spoke sternly. "If you would've waited for another second, you probably would've just dropped out of the sky."_

 _She grabs a cotton ball and peroxide, tipping the bottle over with the opened gap buried in the cotton._

 _He grimaced. "Oh, man… can't we just skip that part and move onto the stitching?"_

" _Did you get your tetanus shot?" she looked up at him with a raised eyebrow._

" _Yeah like… five years ago."_

" _Then no, we can't skip this part."_

" _Come on, Sam. Nothing that he used was dirty or rusty in any way." He was practically begging now, leaning further away from the cotton ball. "I really don't want this to sting."_

" _Stop being a big baby."_

" _I'm not being a big baby," he pouted._

" _Big strong ghost boy can't take a wittle sting?" she mocks. "Come over here. Don't make me hold you down like last time."_

" _This isn't last time," he puffed._

 _Reluctantly, he moved in closer to her and Sam cocked her head, lifting her arm up slightly to get a better angle. "Now… hold still," she says as she presses the cotton against his wound._

" _Fuck!" he yells._

" _Shh," she shushes him, "you have to be quiet; you'll wake my parents up."_

" _Oh, I'm sorry. I'm a little busy trying not to bite my lips so hard that they bleed."_

" _Don't get snarky with me," she commands. "I'm almost done, now sit tight and shut up."_

 _She tapped the cotton ball all over the wound, each time making him flinch. She set it aside, grabbing a needle and sliding the thread through the whole. Danny shook his head._

" _Fuck, this is probably worse than the peroxide."_

" _You complain way too much, you know that?"_

 _She tied the thread in a knot and leaned back down, pinching his skin together at one end of the cut. She poked the needle through and pulled, making him hiss._

" _It's ok, Danny," she cooed._

" _It's not ok; this sucks."_

" _Well, it wouldn't hurt as bad if you'd stop jerking your body everywhere. Maybe next time you'll think twice before going to fight without us."_

 _She worked her way all the way across the cut. Once it was completely sealed up, she put the gauze on it and taped it to his skin._

" _There," she said confidently. "I'm no doctor, but I've done what I could."_

 _He exhales sharply. "Never again."_

 _She laughed, throwing herself back to the head of the bed. "You said that last time."_

" _Yeah, but this time I really mean it."_

 _He stood up, transforming himself back to his human self and looked back at Sam, who had picked up her book and continued reading it. He smiled slyly and crawled onto her bed until he was on top of her. She giggled and set her book on the side._

" _Danny, what are you doing?"_

 _He dropped his head to her neck and sucked at it. She inhaled sharply. "Danny…"_

" _Yes?" he answers back in a cocky tone._

" _You're such a dick, man."_

" _Did someone say 'dick'?"_

" _Not that kind of dick!" she exclaims before slowly pushing him up to look at her. "Do you really think it's safe to have sex after you literally just got patched up?"_

" _Sure it is," he answers. "I read some article that talked about how sex was good for blood regulation and healing wounds."_

" _Mm, pretty sure you didn't."_

" _Yes, I did."_

" _No, you didn't."_

" _Yes huh-Google it."_

" _I'm pretty sure you're lying," she smirked._

" _Well," he began, lying down on his back beside her, "it's true."_

" _Sure," she said sarcastically. They turned to face each other. He reached his hand and she grasped it, lacing her fingers with his._

" _Is this gonna be a recurring thing?" he asked. "You patching me up?"_

" _With how stubborn you are? I don't doubt it for a second."_

" _I didn't mean it like that."_

 _She leans up. "Are you talking about being a forever thing?"_

 _He shrugs. "If you want it to be."_

" _I hope for that more than anything," she whispers._

 _He smiles, kissing her softly on this lips. He pulls back not even an inch from her face. "Then allow me to be your fairy god… uh… father, and make that wish come true for you."_

 _She chuckled. "Tonight?"_

" _Mm, shucks, I left my wand at home… but I promise… one day."_

" _Is this your way of saying that you're proposing to me?"_

 _Danny holds his hand out, palm down, and gives it a little shake. "More or less."_

" _Do you already have a ring picked out?"_

" _Maybe."_

" _Are you paying it off or something?"_

" _Maybe."_

" _Are you almost done paying it off?"_

" _Sam, chill," he laughed. "I can't tell you any of that stuff. All I can really tell you is one day… ok?"_

 _She sighs, giving him a smile. "Yeah. Ok."_

" _I promise," he seals it with a kiss. "I promise I'll step up to the plate one day."_

"Sam?" She heard a deep voice call out.

Her head jerked towards the bathroom door and she began panting. She pulled the needle from her fully sewn wound and threw it back into the kit along with the peroxide and cotton balls. With shaky hands, she closed the lid and place it back into the medicine cabinet, picking the gauze up and pressing it against her arm. She grabbed the tape and pulled it, biting off the end and sticking it against the cotton sheet.

 _I've got to hurry. If Josh comes up here and sees me doing this, he's gonna get so angry._

"Sam?" the voice called out again.

She puts two more pieces of tape down before tossing it off to the side and flicking off the light before stepping out the bathroom. As she turned towards the staircase, she stopped dead in her tracks.

She was met with an all too familiar face.

…

 **~D~**

Danny groaned, moving his head from beneath his pillow to look at the clock on his nightstand.

7:30 AM.

He yanked the covers off of him and sat upright. Danny was never one for waking up this early, but he barely got any sleep. He was worried about Sam, wondering if she was ok.

How badly did she get hurt last night?

Did she need help?

He hated the idea that this is the last day off that he had off before having to go back to work. Not only did he find his job irritating, but he found it even more difficult knowing that he had to leave Sam alone with Josh with no way for him to help her.

He smirked, standing up to go to his dresser. Danny had told Sam growing up about how he was going to become an astronaut one day, travel throughout space and explore the moon. Instead, he ended up being a module cleaner, which isn't exactly flying in rocket ships but it's in the field. He knew that one day he'd get there. He never lost sight of his dreams.

He thought about shaving and trying to make himself look more presentable, but he tossed the idea to the side. It's not like Sarah was there, so he didn't have to spruce himself up to look good for anyone.

Well… except for Sam.

But Sam always loved how he looked regardless.

He threw a black short sleeved shirt on and some random gray sweatpants he found discarded at the end of the bed. He gave himself a whiff.

 _Meh,_ he thought, _if it doesn't smell bad, why wash it?_

He opened one of his drawers, grabbing a pair of socks before shutting it. As he pulled them onto his feet, he'd thought about mustering up the courage to visit Sam. He knew that that meant going over to her house and that he was risking a lot by doing so, but he couldn't keep sneaking her out like this. Eventually, Josh would catch on or someone would probably snoop and snitch on her.

He decided that he had enough.

He decided to take the risk.

He grabbed a pair of sneakers before exiting the room and running down the stairs.

He looked up and stopped.

Sarah was sitting at the dining room table. She was eating breakfast and reading the comics section of the newspaper. Her back was to him, but she already knew that he was there based on how loud he was coming down the stairs.

 _Shit. I forgot that Sarah has the day off… fuck me._

She turns around and looks at him, smiling. "Good morning to you too, handsome."

"Oh…" he says awkwardly. "Hey." He steps down the rest of the stairs and makes his way towards her. She looks up and kisses his jawline, tracing her hands against his stubble. "I, uh… forgot that you had the day off today."

"Yeah," she nodded, "and I was thinking that since you and I don't spend that much time together, we could do something today. Take a walk in the park… go see a movie… I heard the new Star Wars movie was pretty good."

It sounded tempting. Danny has been wanting to see it since it came out. He loved the Star Wars franchise. He loved pretty much every movie he saw.

But he knew he already had a primary goal, and that was to go see Sam.

"Yeah, uh… sure. Maybe."

She gives him a look. "Ok," she sets down the newspaper, "what's wrong with you?"

"Wrong?" he repeats nervously. "What makes you think something's wrong?"

"Because you've been being really short with me, you sound so damn fidgety every time I talk to you and you just… you've been super tense lately." She holds his hand. "What's going on with you?"

Danny knew that eventually, he was going to have to tell the truth. But what was he supposed to say? 'Hey, my ex-girlfriend lives next door and she's being abused by her husband and, oh yeah, did I forget to mention that we kissed?' He didn't have it in his heart to tell Sarah what was happening. She loved him so much… more than anything else in the world. And he loved her… but everything was just so complicated. How do you look the woman that you love in the eyes and tell her that you fantasize about someone else?

Danny played it off. "I've just been… super nervous about work."

"Why?" she asked.

"You know… what if I don't end up becoming an astronaut? What if I work hard and I show them what I've got… and they just toss me aside?"

 _Smooth,_ he mentally slapped himself. _A lie on top of a lie. You're really climbing out of this hole you dug yourself, aren't you?_

"Honey," she starts, standing towards her feet. She embraces him, her left cheek resting against his bicep. "You'll get there, ok? You just have to have faith in yourself."

"Yeah… ok," he sighed, letting the secret that he was keeping completely consume him.

"And no matter what, you know I'll always love you."

"I know," he said numbly. "I love you too."

"Ok," she mumbled. When she pulled back, she rubbed his arms. "Now, do me a favor go outside and get the mail for me. I was going to when I grabbed the newspaper but I totally forgot. I'm expecting something from my credit card company."

"Ok," he nods. As she takes a seat, he goes to the front door, walking out and closing it behind him. He groans in frustration, bringing his hands to his face.

How was he going to get himself out of this?

What was he going to do?

 _Love triangles suck,_ he thought. As he started towards the mailbox, his eyes followed to Sam's house and he began to slow his pace.

Josh's car was gone.

Now was his chance to do what he had to do.

He could make up some excuse-say that he took a little longer than expected because he went on a walk or helped a neighbor out or something.

He had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach that he didn't like.

 _If I'm going to do this, I have to do it right._

He circled around to the back of the house, transformed into his ghost self, disappeared and flew into Sam's house, landing in the foyer before changing back.

 _That should at least keep the neighbors quiet._

He looked around. The house was deserted. He could hear the refrigerator humming quietly and the air conditioning circulating through the vents. The hallway echoed so badly that you could hear a coin drop.

He didn't like this.

Not one bit.

"Sam?" he called out. He started carefully moving towards the kitchen when the crunching of glass stopped him. He looked down and saw blood.

A lot of blood.

It was in a huge puddle and it traveled in drops all the way towards the staircase.

 _Oh God… no… Sam…_

He thought of the worse case scenario: that Sam had been stabbed and could've been near death.

Or perhaps already dead.

He rushed towards the stairs and his eyes landed on the bloody handprint covering the handrail. He looked closer and ran his index finger through it, pulling it in to examine it.

 _It's fresh._

He was slightly relieved.

There was a chance that she was ok.

There was a chance that she was still alive.

"Sam!?" he called up the stairs in a worried tone. He slowly started to climb them, mentally preparing himself for whatever he was about to see. He saw the puddle of sick and stepped right over it.

 _Blood all over the place, vomit on the floor… either Josh was drunk and Sam managed to defend herself… or Sam got hurt. Bad._

The knot in his stomach felt tighter.

When he got to the top, he met the gaze of a disoriented black haired woman.

It was Sam. She had been wearing the same outfit that he saw her in yesterday, only now there was a hole in her left sleeve, which had been completely covered in blood. She looked pale and her right eye had been swollen completely shut. She was in a stance that showed that she had been in complete fight or flight. Her shoulders were tense.

But when she recognized it was him, she sunk and completely burst into tears.

"Oh, my God," he ran towards her and held her. "Sam, w-... what happened!?"

"Danny," was the only word she managed to let out. She grabbed ahold of him and wept even harder, letting her legs give out. Danny could feel his heart crack as he followed her towards the ground.

"Sam, what happened!? What did he do to you!?"

"He… he was going… he tried to cut me and I…" her words tangled together. "He was going to cut me… he thought I was cheating on him… I couldn't tell on you… I couldn't…"

"Sam…" he murmured, cradling her head.

"He smashed his bottle in half and… and he used the head of it as a knife… he cut my arm and I fell to the floor and it… smashed next to me and a shard went into my eye…"

"Oh, my God. Sam," he held her face up towards the light. "Let me see."

She obeyed as he took his fingers and slowly pulled her eyelids apart to reveal a cut just above her cornea.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Sam, we have to get you to a hospital."

"No," she shook her head.

"Yes, Sam! We have to go now; you need medical help!"

"If I go to the hospital, they're going to question me and the police will get involved… and we can't… not yet." She whimpered, grabbing ahold of Danny's arms.

"He's not going to touch you," he said, "I won't let him."

"He's gonna come after me." Her voice was strained and tired.

"Then let him! Because when I get my hands on him, he's a fucking _dead man."_

"Danny, please… no hospital… please…"

He didn't know what to do. He'd never seen Sam so broken, and it tore him apart. He knew that she had to seek medical attention, but he also knew that Sam was right. She'd have to explain what happened to the police, and once they start poking around, Josh will immediately go after her. They had to stick with the plan.

"Ok… ok, come on Sam… you remember, right? You remember our plan?"

She sniffed, bobbing her head up and down. "Yeah."

"It's time."

…

The next fifteen minutes was the hardest fifteen minutes of his life. Sam directed him toward the bedroom. There, she stripped down to her underwear to reveal all of what he couldn't see before. He had never felt a bigger urge to kill like he had when he saw the rest of the bruises and scars that Josh had left on her body. He knew what he had to do, but he never thought it'd be so… difficult for him.

He took out his cell phone, opening his camera and did the best that he could to capture as many marks as he could find.

With each click, he got closer and closer to regurgitating.

He was lucky that Sam was more forgiving than him; if he had his way, Josh would've had a missing tongue.

 **~S~**

She shut the dresser door, the hand straps of her black duffel back gripped firmly in her hands. She was lucky the bag was as big as it was; she must have packed at least three week's worth of clothes. Danny had already finished gathering all of her hygienic products and putting them in a storage sized ziplock bag. She decided that she'd only take her converse shoes since they pretty much matched with everything. She wasn't one for owning a million pairs of shoes anyway.

After Danny took pictures of her, he helped her clean herself up a bit and change into clean, dry clothes: a camo green short-sleeved shirt and a pair of black leggings. She stepped into her converses, laced them up and double knotted them. They put her sweatpants and blood-stained shirt in a plastic bag to take with them as evidence. After all, Tucker did say to document everything, so they took every opportunity that they had to collect anything that could make or break Sam's chance at freedom.

She made a complete one-eighty and Danny, who had been leaning casually against the foot of the bed, pushed himself to his feet.

"What happens if I run out of things to wear?" she inquired. Danny laughed, tapping his forehead with his knuckles before answering jokingly: "it's not like Mom and Dad won't let you use their washer and dryer."

"Oh, right," she shook her head. "Sorry… I haven't seen them in so long. I wonder if they'll even recognize me."

"I'm sure they will," he gave a hearty smile, but it promptly regressed. She noticed that he couldn't stop staring at her eye.

 _Does it really look that bad?_

"Sam," he soughed, "I really do think you should get that looked at. Would you at least feel better about going to the hospital if we got into town?"

She didn't answer-just looked down towards the floor, clicking her toes together. She didn't have to see him to know that he had shaken his head in disappointment. He took her duffel bag from her and transformed before pulling her closer to him by the waist.

"Are you ready?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

"Ok. Just hang onto me."

She felt the old tingly feeling that she missed so much, and knew that they had disappeared when she looked down and realized she couldn't see herself. They went up through the ceiling and she looked down. They were crossing the lawn towards Danny's house. She had almost forgotten how scary it was being so far off the ground.

"Please don't drop me," she whispered.

"Sammie, you know me," he chuckled. "I've never dropped you."

Realizing how true he was, she smiled.

She missed the moments like these when they were a couple.

When the world made sense.

They used to take flight trips like this in the middle of the night all the time.

She loved the feeling of being able to escape, even if it were just for a minute.

She closed her eyes, enjoying the breeze that hit her face, and when she opened them, she looked up to see that Danny was much younger. She hadn't been wearing the same outfit as before-her black crop top with a purple oval in the center, purple leggings and black skirt with green stripes. Of course, there were her favorite combat boots.

" _Please tell me you're not going to fly us into a billboard like you did a couple of years ago?" she asked._

" _Oh come on," he rolled his eyes. "That was one time and in case you didn't know, Ember's fat face isn't a very easy thing to miss."_

 _She laughed. She looked around, admiring the view of Amity Park. Their town looked way less chaotic at night. It actually looked… peaceful. Especially when they flew at night. They had just gotten done with their ghost patrol for the evening and Tucker had long went home, leaving the two lovebirds to spend time together alone._

 _She looked at Danny, pulling herself closer to him. He was taken aback for a second._

" _What are you doing?" he asked. "Don't move around so much; you'll make me drop you."_

" _That's not funny," she glared._

" _Who's laughing?" he replied seriously._

" _Just… let me do this."_

 _She moves underneath him, arms outstretched to match his._

" _Ah, yes," he caught on, "the ol' Titanic pose."_

" _Please," she huffed, "this is way better than Titanic. We're actually flying."_

" _Seriously though," he said, "give me a sign first next time, would you?"_

" _Come on-"_

" _I'm serious."_

" _Don't get all uptight," she mocked, moving her hand to rub his cheek._

" _I'm not getting uptight, Sam. I'm protecting you."_

" _Danny, come on…" she looks up at him. "I know that if I were to ever fall, you'd be right there to catch me. You always have been."_

" _I know, but-"_

" _Who was there to catch me when we were to beating Nocturne's goons?"_

" _Me, but-"_

" _Who was there to catch me at Circus Gothica and Freakshow brainwashed you, made you cut the tightrope and I fell to my death?"_

" _Ok, me but-"_

" _AND, if some animated, talking tree used its branches to grab my ankle, tip me upside down and drop me head first, who would be there to break my fall?"_

 _Danny sighed. "Me."_

" _Ok. So there you go. You have nothing to fear."_

" _Sam, you don't understand," he said. "One day… one day, when you need me the most… I might not be there. The thought of that kills me inside. If something happened to you, I… I could never live with myself."_

" _That's never going to happen, Danny."_

" _How do you know that?"_

" _Because I just do," she shrugged. "Everywhere that I am, you're there. Every time we breathe, we breathe in sync. Our hearts beat at the same time. You're a part of me, Danny. You're with me even when you aren't"_

 _He bit his lip nervously. "That's kind of what I'm afraid of."_

" _What are you talking about?"_

" _Being with you in spirit-it's not the same thing as being with you physically. I can feel everything that you feel, Sam… even when you're scared. What if that feeling comes… what if you fall… and for once, I'm not there to catch you?"_

 _Her lips tightened, and he could see the light in her eyes dim. "I don't know. I guess… I guess I can only hope that I'm strong enough to save myself."_

" _Sam?" she heard him call. But his lips weren't moving._

" _Sam?"_

"Sam?"

She blinked, her eyes fluttering to see the scruffy-faced man she knew and loved.

"Yeah?" she responded in a slight daze.

"We're here. The flight wasn't that long-a solid… twenty seconds. Probably not even that."

"Sorry," she shook her head. "I was… daydreaming."

"Daydreaming about us?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yeah."

She admired the room with the one eye that she could see out of. His bedroom looked even fancier than the foyer. Everything was nice and clean. A chandelier hung just over the bed. The dresser had assorted figurines and jars of sand on it. The carpet was brand new, not a speck of dirt on it. The white sheets were flawless. It smelled a lot like cinnamon.

Sam was almost too afraid to even breathe with how pristine everything looked.

"Wow…" she whispered in awe. "You're not kidding-Sarah really does go all out."

"Yeah."

"What are these?' She gestured towards the jars of sand.

"Oh, uh… Sarah likes to collect sand from every ocean she visits."

"Huh… that's so neat."

"Pft. I guess. Wish she got into a different hobby. You know… one not quite as messy."

She stood still at the bottom of the bed, her hands laced together, and Danny set her bag down just before her. He walked to his closet, opening the doors to reveal a vast collection of assorted clothing made of all different kinds of fabric. Sam was surprised that Danny owned that much clothing; the Danny she knew would've just kept wearing the same outfit for days on end until it got dirty or reeked of 'man'.

 _I guess I'm not the only one who's been changed by someone else._

"Let's see," he mumbled to himself, picking at each shirt one by one. Sam was curious, but thought that she'd stay quiet. He looked so focused that she didn't even feel comfortable bothering him. "Aha!" he called aloud, grabbing the hanger that held a long sleeved black hoodie. He took it off and discarded the piece of plastic, carrying the hoodie over to Sam.

"Here," he unzipped it and helped her slip it on, zipping it up to her chest. He nearly busted out laughing. She looked at her arms, down at her waist and back up at him with a scowl.

"It's not funny."

"It's-it's kinda funny."

"It looks like I'm being devoured by cotton fabric!" she protested.

Danny couldn't hold it in anymore. He snorted, pointing at her as he tried to catch his breath.

"Sam, if this were a different circumstance, I'd have taken a picture of you."

"Come on… it's not funny."

"Sammie… if you could fully see yourself," he sniffed, wiping a tear from his eye, "you'd laugh too."

She smiled faintly.

 _I guess it is… kinda funny. I mean this thing is too big for me! I guess Danny wasn't done growing after all._

She snickered, flapping her arms up and down. "I feel like a bird."

"You look like a bird."

"Bite me."

Their light-hearted humor was interrupted when Danny's bedroom door flew open. Sam turned to look and instantly frowned.

All she could hear was Danny mutter: "shit."

…

 **~D~**

He didn't know what to say.

The feeling had been on the horizon of startled and shocked.

Sarah stood in the doorway, eyeing Sam like a lion looking at a gazelle. This gave me Danny a horrible vibe.

"Um…" she started. She let her hand slip from the doorknob. Her eyes scanned Sam, moving towards her feet and back up at her face. If he didn't know any better, he would've thought she was practically undressing her with those deep green orbs of hers. She made her way towards them, circling Sam ever so gracefully. "I was coming up here to ask you how you ended up here and why you'd been gone for so long…" she started, and when she halted just a mere half a foot in front of Sam, she continued. "But, um… I guess a better question would be… who is this woman and why is she alone with you? In _our_ bedroom?"

"Sam, could you just… excuse us for one moment." Danny said before taking Sarah by the forearm out of the room. They stopped when they reached closer towards the staircase. He knew there was no point in keeping their voices low since Sam already knew she was the hot topic, but they carried on their conversation in a hushed volume anyway.

"Danny, who. _Is._ That woman?" she asked with grit teeth.

"She's just a friend of mine, ok? And she needs help-"

"Don't lie to me, Danny!" she shot back. "Do you really think I'm that stupid?"

"Wha—?" Danny frantically gestured towards the bedroom then grabbed ahold of his hair. He puffed out his cheeks. "Are you fucking kidding me right now!? _Are you kidding me right now!?"_

"No, I'm not Danny!"

"Did you see her face? Or were you too busy listening to that little voice in your head, telling you how much of a bad person I am!"

"Did you sleep with her? How long?"

He smacked his hands against his thighs. "Yes, absolutely. I was literally just totally naked in there like shit... did you see that?"

Though his voice dripping with sarcasm, she took it seriously. "So you did sleep with her?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes…"

Her mouth dropped and the stance she was in told him that she was going to hit him. He quickly finished his sentence, "but it was over ten years ago! She's my ex-girlfriend."

"Wait… that's Sam? Your ex-girlfriend? And she's in a room… with you… alone!?"

"Oh my fucking God, Sarah," he scoffed, shaking his head. "You're insane. Nothing is going on! She needs help!"

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "What kinda help? Drug problem?"

"Like you're one to judge. I know the _real_ reason you're still taking Xans."

"Wow," she huffed. "You're such a fucking dick."

"I'm just saying."

"What the hell is the matter with her then? What problem is so bad that she can't solve it on her own?"

"It's just her hus…" his voice trailed off. He bit his lip. He didn't want to put Sam's business out there. In a way Sarah was right: she deserved an explanation of some sort.

But the fewer people that knew about Sam's situation, the better.

"It's just that she… her husband…"

She nudged her head, pushing him to continue.

"Just… family stuff, it doesn't matter. I'm taking her home, and since you want to go apeshit, I'm staying there too."

"What!?"

"You heard me."

"You have to go to work starting tomorrow!"

"I'll drive forty-five minutes back here then."

"Where will you be staying?"

"My mom's, where do you think?"

"And where is _she_ staying?"

"Does it really matter?"

"Yes!"

"Look… I can't tell you. You're just going to have to trust me. Things are… really complicated right now."

She didn't look satisfied.

"I promise that when the time is right, I'll tell you everything." He kissed her on the cheek. "Ok?"

She sighed, her eyes looking left and right and her tongue gliding along the inside of her cheek before she finally says: "fine."

She turned and stomped down the stairs. Danny didn't move. He was completely taken aback.

 _Wow… I've never seen her like that._

He entered the bedroom again. Sam had been silent, in the same spot he left her in. She lifted her right shoulder and let it fall back down. "I'm sorry that I caused such a strain on you guys."

"Sammie, the strain was already there. Don't listen to her—she's just insecure."

She looked unconvinced. He could only hope that she wouldn't take it so personally. Sarah was, after all, just the jealous type. It was a part of her personality-a scary part. She had blown a fuse and broke his phone because a female coworker ended up messaging him. So he had to get a new one and give every woman besides his mother and sister a nickname rather than their actual name. Anytime they went out to the grocery store, if a girl so much as looked at him she'd send her dagger eyes. It was obvious that she had some type of issue rooted to her childhood that made her feel so unimportant that she felt as if she had to find twice as hard at the next girl to keep the attention of a man.

Regardless, it was a personal issue that she needed to deal with.

As if Josh wasn't bad enough, now he has to worry about Sarah getting violent.

"Let's go, Sam. I'll carry your bag. We're just going to get in the car and leave. That hoodie is going to be your donkey skin-keep the hood up and keep your head down. We don't want any neighbors getting snoopy and saying anything to him."

"Ok… I'm ready."

Danny gave her a reassuring nod, and he opened the door with her trailing on his heels. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, he didn't even check to see if Sarah was anywhere around. At this point, he didn't care. He was just focused on getting Sam out of town as quickly as possible with little detection.

He opened the door and fumbled for his keyfob in his pocket as Sam closed it behind them. Pressing the button to unlock the car, he opened the backseat door while she got in the passenger seat and strapped herself in. He tossed her bag inside and got to the driver's side, buckling up. He started the car, looking at Sam.

"Are you ready?"

She took a deep breath. "Yes."

He tightened his lips as he put the car in drive, pulling away from the house. In the corner of his eye, he could see Sam's head had turned to look in the passenger mirror.

She was watching as her house of horrors slowly got further and further away until it completely disappeared.

…

 **~S~**

"You needed to talk to me?"

Josh was lounging on the couch, his arms crossed in front of his chest and legs stretched out. Sam stood before him, pacing back and forth. Her hands were getting sweaty. Her heart was beating so hard that it felt as if it would burst through her chest and land right on the carpet. She wiped her palms on her denim jeans, hunching her shoulders as if shrugging off her nerves.

 _Come on, Sam… just out with it already._

"Uh… yeah," she finally blurted. She stopped pacing and took a deep breath. They talked about this before. It's not like it was a big deal; she was just scared of how he'd react or what he'd say. He had just gotten a job as an organizer at a business firm, and she knew that it didn't pay the absolute best, but that it was a start. Eventually, he wanted to go on to become a businessman. She wanted that for him more than anything, but she was afraid that this rock in the road would've blown a tire.

But it was too late to go back now.

The only direction to go in was forward.

She rubbed her hands together. "Ok… so…"

"So…?" He repeated anxiously.

"You know how I've been feeling really off lately? How I've been sick and I've been throwing up all over the place?"

"Yeah, wasn't it just food poisoning from that Japanese restaurant that we went to?"

Her lips pursed. She shook her head. "No."

Reaching into her back pocket, she pulled out what at first looked like a thermometer without the fine tip. He pushed himself forward and examined it to find that it was a pregnancy test. He looked up at her, a stale look on his face. "No…"

"Yeah," she grinned, pointing towards it. She was bouncing on her feet with such excitement and joy that she thought that she'd shoot straight up through the ceiling. He flipped it over and looked at the reader.

It was a little pink plus sign.

"W-What does plus mean?"

"It means… that… we'd better start prepping a nursery!"

"Wait." He was flat on his feet in less than two seconds. "You're pregnant?"

She nodded.

"Like… like pregnant as in… we're having a baby?"

"Yes!" She cried. "Aren't you happy?"

His face flooded with several emotions, but not one of them was anywhere close to joy. Sam's excitement died down. She stopped bouncing; she frowned.

"Aren't you?"

"No, I'm not happy!" He protested.

"But… but I thought you wanted a baby."

"Well yeah, but not for another like five or six years! I'm trying to better our lives together, and I'm barely bringing in enough money as it is for the both of us."

"I mean, it's not like I don't have a job."

"You have to travel for your job, and whenever you're not you don't make that much."

"Then we'll figure something out. If we need to get a little bit of help for a while, then so be it! But Josh… you're going to be a father. You're not the least bit thrilled?"

"No," he flung the test on the couch cushion and walked off towards the kitchen, grabbing a cup and filling it with tap water.

"Josh… come on…" she pleaded. "I need you by my side through this. You don't have to like it, but can't you at least support me? I mean," he turned and looked at her, "I've given up most of my life to give you everything that you wanted. I married you. I didn't move back home-"

"You could have-"

"Yeah, but I didn't!" She proclaimed. "Because I wanted to make things easier for you!"

He took a sip and turned his back towards her.

"I mean, I've sacrificed everything for you! I helped you when you were struggling in college, I helped you find a job… and you can't, for once, have _my_ back for something?"

"I do have your back, Sam," he glared at her. "Just… not about this."

"So what do you want me to do? If you're asking me to get an abortion, I won't do it."

"Maybe not an abortion-maybe just… send it to foster care and let some unfortunate married couple adopt it."

She felt the muscles in her eyes clench. She couldn't see her face but knew that she was giving him the evil eye. "I'm keeping my baby, Josh…" he rolled his eyes and took another sip, "...and if you don't want anything to do with this then… then I'll just leave. I'll go stay with my parents."

"We've been married for how many years? Three? And already you're ready to walk out?"  
"I don't _want_ to walk out, Josh… but if you don't stand by me through this, then you're not really leaving me much of a choice."

"You're not going anywhere, Sam," he retaliated, his voice dark.

She shot her head back, looking at him as if he had the nerve to say what he did.

"Yeah? And you're just going to stop me right? You know what, Joshua… you're such a coward. When life gets hard, you just give up, right? Can't keep picking yourself up?"

She slowly walks towards him. Her tauntings make his breathing deep and rigid.

"That's why people walk all over you, Josh. That's why your high school sweetheart cheated on you for some douchebag jock and left you to pick up all of these pieces-because you don't know how to stand up for yourself. You don't know how to be a man!"

She stood her ground, so close to him that she could count the blood vessels in his eyes.

"Be a man, Josh," she badgered, "if you even have the balls… be a _fucking man-!"_

Without any warning, his hand came up and collided with her cheek, causing her head to twist towards the right.

…

She was jolted awake by the sudden thud of Danny driving over a pothole. Her head darted up in fright, but she relaxed when painted lines on asphalt and a big blue sky in her line of sight. She glanced over at Danny, who noticed that she was startled.

"Hey, it's ok," he coos, his hand on her forearm.

She sighs, watching the other cars around her zoomed down the bypass.

"Bad dream?" he inquired.

"Yeah," she replied in a mutter, "I guess you can say that."

The sound of the engine soothed her. She had always found it so calming; it's what made her fall asleep in the backseat during family road trips. To her, there was no such thing as motion sickness. She found cars as relaxing as floating in a body of water.

"How long was I out?"

"Not long. Only about a half an hour."

"Good, so we're almost there."

"Yeah, we're not that far now. About ten to fifteen more minutes… how's your eye?"

"It's better… still kinda sore."

 _Man… I really hate having these dreams._

She just wanted this to be all over. She felt better knowing that she was so far away from him now-maybe not incredibly far but far enough. If she would've had known way back when what she knew then, she would've bolted the second she read the results of that test. Instead, she put up with his manipulative, violent ways. She had given up on everything and everyone just so he could have her all to herself. A part of her thought that somewhere inside of him, the _real_ him was still there, but she instantly dropped the thought from her head.

No more making excuses.

She needed to get out and start her life fresh. Reconnect with her loved ones.

She decided the best thing to do at her current point was simply to start a conversation: a simple way to take her mind off her psychotic husband.

"So… you never told me how you met Sarah."

"Ah," he laughed. "You really want to know?"

"Of course I do! Tell me everything."

"Well," he cleared his throat, still concentrating on the road, "it was actually back in Colorado."

"Really?" She asked in an intriguing manner.

"Really. It was my second year there. My dorm mate Brian mentioned that he was going to some party on campus, but like the shut-in that I am, I said that I was just going to hang back. He insisted; I accepted," he took a brief look at her before reverting, "but only because I wanted him to shut the fuck up already." She giggled. "Anyway, so we get to this party, right? The whole place is practically trashed. Really the only sober people that were there were the ones that just showed up, like me and Brian. This girl walks up to me-"

"Sarah?" Sam guessed.

"No. Sarah's friend. She was talking about how a friend of hers… Sarah… was waiting all night for a guy who never showed up. I really didn't want to get involved, but Brian was long gone and I didn't have anyone to save me. I figured it couldn't have hurt, so the girl took me by the hand and escorted me to her. The place was fucking packed, Sam, like I'm surprised that people even had enough room to take a piss in private. By the way, this was a frat house, so of course, there's going to be a lot of die-hard jock assholes there. It was pretty much like an older and bigger version of Dash times like twenty"

"So she leads me into this sitting room area-you know, kind of like a den but a bit more wide-spaced? She's sitting on this loveseat wearing this body binding… really sexy black dress with these black faux leather pumps. It's kind of like something you'd wear…" Sam smiled. "And she's over here crying her eyes out. Me, thinking she's completely sober, kneels down to get on her level and I tap her on the shoulder. She looks up at me and she looks… rough… I mean like _really_ rough. Her makeup was still intact, but she was just a wreck: puffy eyes, puffy cheeks… I had to double take to make sure she wasn't half chipmunk"

"I asked her if she's ok, and of course she says no. She wanted to go someplace else to talk so I helped her up… drunk out of her mind, she falls right on her ass and I literally have to _pick her up_ and drape her arm around my neck. I took her out of the house onto the front porch, and she's just bawling about how much of an asshole this guy was, how much she hated him, etc. and then immediately shifted her focus on me. She just twirled my hair and talked about how cute I was. I said thanks. She asked if I wanted to have sex. I said no, because for obvious reasons number one being she's drunk and that's just wrong, and number two I literally just met her thirty seconds before"

"Basically for the rest of the night, I had to act as her babysitter/bodyguard. Some assholes tried to cop a feel, but because I'm a gentleman I put a stop to it. She danced with me, she sang to me… she threw up on my shoes."

"Did she?" Sam trilled. "Oh my God, that's fucking disgusting."

"Tell me about it. The party lasted a good six hours and around one in the morning, people started leaving left and right. In her head, she was sober enough to walk home, but her friend had already dipped to God knows where, and I'm still pretty much stuck on babysitting duty. At this point, I'm not even worried about Brian. I didn't want her walking home alone for fear of someone trying to pick her up and/or take advantage of her. So I asked her what dorm she lived in? Did she know where it was located? What was it by? Sam… she literally passed out. We only walked for five minutes… and she passed out. I had to _carry her_ back to _my_ dorm because in the minutes prior to that, she never once mentioned anything about where she was staying. She yelled out loud how proud she was to be a single, strong and sexy woman and how much the world sucked… but never said anything about her dorm"

"So I took her back to mine, and I carried her up to my room. Brian hadn't made it back yet, which honestly was fine with me because I was intending on dodging questions for the rest of the evening. I lied her down on her side, right on my bed, and grabbed some extra sheets from my closet and just slept on the floor down at the end. When I woke up the next day, it was like nine in the morning. I heard her groan and saw her sit up. By the way, Brian was still gone. For the whole night or did he come back, crash and then leave… I'll never know. Anyway, she looked genuinely confused and freaked out. She saw me and about screamed and she asked if I violated her and I swore to her that I didn't. She asked why she was in my dorm room and I said because she got really drunk and didn't tell me where she was staying and that I was taking care of her for pretty much the entire evening. She apologized for being so hostile, asked for some aspirin (which I provided) and then put on her shoes. We exchanged numbers before she left and after that, we stayed in touch. She felt really bad about being so awkward, so she offered to take me out to get some tea the next day. She tried to pay but I made her put her wallet away and I paid"

"Anyway, we were friends all the way up until our junior year, and about halfway in I asked her out. She said yes. After we graduated we didn't really know what we wanted to do. She said that she was from Boston, so she was on the East Coast anyway. I told her I was from New York and offered her to move in back home with me. She accepted. I didn't want to come home because I didn't want her to get weirded out of our town, what with all the freaky ghosts and my weird parents… I didn't want to put that kind of strain on her yet. Her sister had a roommate that dipped and left her with rent for a two-bedroom apartment, so we offered to move in to help her out, but since her name was on the lease, she was the one that had to pay with all of the money that we pitched in. She only had about six months left on her lease and she was planning on moving after it was up, so we ended up looking for a house to buy. I have no idea how, but we got qualified for the house next door to you. Shortly before we moved in, I proposed to her. We went out to some fancy restaurant to celebrate our anniversary and I just… popped the question. Just like that. She naturally flipped her shit and cried and made a huge fuss about it but she said yes. We left the apartment after the lease expired, we moved into the house and, well…" he looked at Sam and shrugged, "you know the rest."

"Oh… wow…" Sam said in a low voice. "That's… quite the story."

"Why do you think I asked you if you were sure that you wanted to hear it?"

"Well, I didn't think it was gonna be that chaotic!"

"I don't really know _what_ you were expecting Sam; you saw how she was when she saw you back at the house."

She shrugged. "Fair point."

He scoffed. "Still can't believe that she did that to you."

"I guess I kind of deserve it."

"No one deserves to be treated like that."

"Not even a homewrecker?"

He gave her a coaxing look and she rolled her eyes. "Don't play dumb. You know what I mean."

"Sam…"

"Tell me something Danny… are you ever going to tell her?"  
"Tell her what? All we ever did was kiss; we can just pretend that it never happened."

"Not just about that. About how we still love each other. About how you're still stuck on me. About how you'd rather be with me."

"Sam, I never said that-"

"But am I right or am I not?"

"We don't have to argue about this-"

"I'm not arguing, Danny… I'm just trying to figure out what it is you really want."

There was an awkward silence that filled the air for a good twenty seconds.

Danny finally broke it. "Well good luck… because I don't even think _I've_ figured it out yet."

"That's because you're thinking with your head… what does your heart want?"

"What does yours?"

"This isn't about me."

"You know, I gotta ask, Sam: do you still love him?"

"Well… I think that's obvious…"

"No?"

"Yes."

"How, Sam? Tell me how you could love someone who treats you like a punching bag instead of a human being, let alone a spouse?"

"Because it's just… it's complicated."

He glances at her with a face that says he's won. "Now you know how I feel."

"This is completely different, Danny."

"How?"

"Don't give me that bullshit! How? _How!?_ Does Sarah shove your head against the wall so hard that you break holes in it? Does Sarah beat you so senseless that you end up getting concussions? Does Sarah drink like a fish, throw things at you and uses the exact same bottle that she used to get plastered as a _fucking knife?!_ Does Sarah pressure you into having sex to the point where another no just leads to her holding you down and fucking you anyway!? Did Sarah force you to cut all contact with your friends, your family, _everyone you've ever known_ out of pure power hunger!? Did Sarah force you to sacrifice everything in order to give her exactly what she wanted!? Did Sarah take your own child from you because she cared more about an addiction than the people she's supposed to _love!?_ Do you cry yourself to sleep every single night, wishing that you'd just drop dead because it's more painful to get up every day and pretend that nothing is wrong!?"

It was only after she stopped that she realized that she had been panting in… anger. She was surprised.

It wasn't her first time getting angry, but it was her first time in a long time being able to show it.

She bit her lip, her eyes casting straight down towards her feet. She rubbed the insides of her Converses together. And then she understood.

 _Is this what it feels like? Being so angry with no way to express it… and you just bottle it up and then… it explodes, and you just can't control it?_ She sits back. _God… no wonder Josh drinks so damn much._

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "...I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it-"

"Sam, no it's… look, don't apologize. Ok? I should be the one who's sorry. You're right: I don't understand your pain… and it doesn't compare at all, not even in the slightest."

"No, really… you were just trying to help me but I snapped and… it wasn't right."

"Sammie… concussions? Your head being slammed into walls? You never mentioned any of that, you… my God, he raped you?"

"I… I don't know… I guess it was…?"

"Sam, don't sound so uncertain about it. You said that he pinned you down and forced you to have sex with him, even after you said no. That's rape."

"Oh."

"How many times has he done that to you?"

Sam could very faintly hear the sound of compressed leather, like the noise that it elicits when someone squeezes it. She located the source right away: it was Danny's clenched hands on the steering wheel.

"Sam," he called sternly, "answer me."

"I don't remember, Danny… it's happened so many times that I just… I don't know, I guess I just couldn't keep count. It just became a norm."

"I swear on my own fucking grave that if the police don't arrest him, I'm going to deal with him myself, and he's going to _wish_ that he went to prison."

"Danny, stop. It isn't necessary-"

"I've known you for most of my life. Do you understand how it makes me feel, knowing all of this stuff happened to you and I wasn't there to stop it?"

"I'd imagine quite difficult… but getting yourself into trouble with the law even if it meant protecting me isn't the way you want this to go down. You're just angry, and you have every right to be, but killing him won't solve anything. It'll just put blood on your hands."

"All I'm saying is that the bastard deserves a fate worse than death."

She wouldn't admit it, but she couldn't agree with him more.

…

Whether it was the change in atmosphere or environment, Sam felt as if she had been washed away to a beautiful island once she spotted the sign that greeted: "Welcome to Amity Park! Population: 5000". A place that she once hated with every fiber of her being is the now a place that she couldn't be any more grateful to see.

 _Home sweet home._

Her heart began to swell when they drove past Casper High. It changed a lot since they left: the bleachers have been upgraded, the parking lot looked much nicer and it was much bigger in size than when Danny, Sam, and Tucker attended there. It was in good time that the town did some renovating; the only issue that she had is that they didn't do it sooner.

"Man…" she was in complete awe. "They changed, like, everything."

"Yeah, pretty much."

And she was right. It was more than just the school that changed.

The park where the former trio used to go for their ghost patrols was now much more plush, with greener grass and more benches. The Nasty Burger was themed to look more like a diner than a burger joint. Sidewalks once cracked were now as good as new.

It was like venturing off to another planet, but the sounds and smells were the same.

They pulled up in front of Danny's old house. The Fenton Works sign still hung proudly just above the front door. Danny got out of the car and circled around to help Sam out.

"You did tell them that we were coming, right?" She queried.

"Of course I did," he beamed, grabbing her bag and slumping it over his shoulder before the shutting the door and locking the car. "You wouldn't believe how ecstatic they sounded over the phone, like finding some little kid's lost puppy."

Sam got into the habit of daydreaming whenever she let herself drift off, so she followed right behind him to keep herself from daddling. He knocked on the door as she glanced left and right. The neighborhood was probably the only things that hadn't changed.

"Now, uh… I didn't tell them the _real_ reason as to why you're staying here, so they might be uh… caught off guard when they see your face."

"You didn't say anything?"

"I figured it wasn't my place."

The door opened and out steps a slightly wrinkled woman with brunette hair and turquoise eyes. Sam almost couldn't believe it; it was Maddie, and she'd barely looked like she'd aged.

"Oh, Danny!" she cried out, wrapping her arms around him in a great big hug.

"Hi, Mom. How are you?"

"Better now that you're here," she lit up like a Christmas tree but frowned when she made eye contact with Sam. "Oh… Sam, is that you? What… what happened to you?"

"Hi, Mom… it's a long story."

"Danny, you didn't do this to her, did you?"

"What? Mom, how could you even ask me that? You know I'd never hurt Sam-"

"Oh, sometimes I just worry about you two-always out getting into some type of trouble." She let them inside and shut the door behind that as she continued. "Even when you were both in elementary school all you did was run around and trash the house: write on the walls, spill your food… now that you guys are out hunting ghosts, I can only imagine how much more often you get into a bind."

He set her duffel bag down. Maddie crossed over, moving past Danny to get closer to Sam.

"Let me see your eye, sweetie."

Sam tilted her head up slightly and held as still as possible as Maddie held it open with two fingers. After a few "mhms" and "mms", she let go.

"Does it look bad?" Sam asked. "Should I go to the hospital?"

"To be honest, it looks like it'll heal up alright. But the hospital really isn't a bad idea. You haven't gone at all?"

"I, uh… I couldn't."

Maddie was puzzled. "Why not?"

"Uh Mom, how about we all have a seat and we can get you up to speed," Danny offered. He looked all throughout the room, visibly showing that he knew something was amiss. "Where's Dad?"

"Oh you know your father: won't leave that ghost equipment alone no matter how old he gets. He's in the basement. He already knows that you're coming so he shouldn't be much longer before he comes upstairs to join us. Now Sam… the eye… what happened to you, honey?"

…

 **~D~**

As Sam took them back to the beginning of her new life, Danny tried to keep his composure the best that he could. At that point, it was the second time that he's been told about it and it wasn't any easier to sit through. With as much strength as he could muster, he tried to keep his outbursts to a bare minimum. Part of the reason is that he didn't want to swear in front of his mother, but most of the reason being that he had to be strong for Sam. This was a battle that no person should ever have to fight, whether they were alone or not.

As she went over the details, he thought of how exactly she was going to heal from this. There were just so many methods, but most of them required getting help and opening up-things he knew Sam wasn't very good at doing. There's no doubt she'd have to visit a psychiatrist; they'd probably tell her she has PTSD or something related to it. She'd have to start going to counseling-maybe even go to support groups or talk therapy. What scared him the most, however, was everything in spite of that.

Sam has been through so much of this. The day that he first saw her again-the way that she stepped out of her front door and onto her porch-she didn't even look like the same person. It was as if Josh had taken who she used to be and tore it apart to craft something new.

Maybe therapy would work.

Maybe medicine would too.

But what if it didn't?

What if she tried to do something drastic… like, take her own life?

The mere thought of it made the thumping organ in his chest skip a beat.

Just imagining finding Sam like that… he'd never be able to forgive himself.

His eyes were glued to the floor beneath them.

 _Danny opened the oak wood box on top of his dresser and grabbed the black jewelry box neatly decorated with a tied white ribbon before making his way over to the mirror on the other side of his room. He stood broadly, clearing his throat before beginning._

" _Sam… you're the love of my life, and I just… I want you to know... " he shook his head furiously "no, that's stupid." He repositioned himself and tried again. "Sam… I just wanted to say that you mean the world to me and… fuck!" He rolled his eyes. "Why am I so awkward? This seems so much easier in the movies." He starts all over again. "Sam… we've been dating for a while now, but we've known each other for much longer than that, and I think it's time that we move on to new beginnings… hm, a little cheesy but it's better."_

 _He was about to try a different approach when his bedroom door suddenly opened and he jumped, turning around and putting the box behind his back. Maddie gave him a suspicious look. He curved his lips upright, showing all of his pearly whites._

" _Hi, Mom! How's it goin'?"_

" _Hello, son…?" she spoke cautiously. "What are you doing up here? Homework, I hope."_

" _Oh, yeah, totally… I was just working on my… uh… my speech! For Lancer's class! It's about the, uh… The Great Gatsby! And… Gatsby's undying love for his beloved Daisy."_

" _Mhm," she gave him an unconvinced hum, raising an eyebrow. "What's behind your back?"_

 _He felt the color drain from his face. "Pft… nothing."_

" _Really? Then show me your hands, and don't pull any of that 'ghost stuff' on me."_

" _Mom, really, it's nothing."_

" _If it's nothing, then you won't have a problem showing me."_

" _This is a violation of privacy; I know my rights!"_

 _She rolled her eyes. "Would rather I go over there and look for myself?"_

 _His shoulders locked. He knew she wasn't going to leave until she got what she wanted. With a gulp and a shaky hand, he held out his hand to reveal the jewelry box._

" _What is that?" she asked in shock._

" _It's… it's a ring, Mom. I'm going to ask Sam to marry me."_

 _She gasped, holding her hand up to her mouth. Her eyes began to water, and she smiled._

" _Oh, Danny… when?"_

" _Not for a little while. I'm just… I'm really nervous."_

" _Why didn't you just tell me, Danny, how… how did you manage to buy… did you use our credit cards?"_

" _No, of course not. I used the money that I've been saving up for a while and just started paying it off, you know: Christmases, birthdays… allowance. I did some extra lawn work for Ms. Stephenson. I helped Sam babysit her cousins. It took forever, but eventually… $1200."_

" _All for her? Oh, Danny, that's so sweet of you."_

" _You mean… you're ok with it?"_

" _Of course I am Danny!" she cried, taking a seat on the bed and beckoning him. He followed suit. "I love Sam like she's part of the family either way. I couldn't have wished for a better daughter-in-law."_

 _He gave her a nod, his thumbs twiddling the box. He flipped the lid open, examining the sterling silver ring inside. It was a beautiful ring: a big diamond in the middle with a small band around it filled with mini diamonds. He tapped his foot rhythmically. His face went flat. She placed a hand on her shoulder, her touch immediately calming his rattled nerves. "It's ok to be nervous, sweetie."_

" _I know, but… I'm like really nervous. What if I blow it? What if she says no?"_

" _Well," she sniffed, rubbing her dampening face. "Just know that that's the worse that she can say."_

" _Mom… what was it like when Dad proposed to you?"_

" _Humiliating," she muttered, "but that's part of the reason that I loved it so much."_

" _How do I go about it? I mean… what do I wear? Where can I take her? How can I be romantic?"_

" _Danny," she chuckled, "you don't have to be extravagant. You know her, and you know what she likes. Sam is the kind of girl that you don't have to spruce yourself up to please. You know that." He nodded stiffly. "Why don't you take her someplace special-something that has meaning to the both of you, but also somewhere private?"_

 _His head snapped up. He blinked. "I know just the place."_

" _Don't rush yourself, Danny… good things come to those who are patient."_

 _She stood up and headed for the door._

" _And if you could be so kind as to give me a heads-up… that would mean the world."_

 _She flashed him a smile before exiting the room. Danny rose to his feet, going back to the mirror. With half of an absent mind, he opened the box and took out the piece of jewelry out._

 _He sighed._

' _Sam… I really hope that you like it. I hope that you say yes.'_

"Earth to Danny."

He snapped his head up. "What?"

The woman before him giggled. Maddie was the first to speak. "Sweetie, your father is here."

He turned his head to see his heavyset father, awaiting him with open arms. He grinned and stood up, joining him in a hug.

"I've missed you, son."

"I've missed you too, Dad. Both of you."

"The house is… very empty without you kids here," his mother added.

"We're just happy to have you back." Jack pulled away and his eyes landed on Sam's face. Maddie stepped in before he even asked.

"Sam's been going through a tough time with her husband. She needs a place a safe haven."

"Oh… Sam, I'm so sorry to hear that. That's… awful."

"It's ok, Dad," she smiled. "What matters is that I'm away from it. At least for now."

"No," Danny shook his head. "For good."

"Well," Maddie got up from the couch, "why don't we help Sam get comfortable, yeah? Danny, if you're staying, you can take your room."

"Am I gonna recognize it?"

"Most likely. We haven't touched anything since you kids left."

Sam went to pick up her bag, but Danny was much quicker than was and had beaten her to it. She looked up and gave him a 'I can do it myself' look, which he returned with a 'let me be a gentleman' look. She rolled her eyes and followed close behind Maddie.

He smiled.

He knew that the old Sam was still in there somewhere.

…

 **~S~**

There was so much that she had missed out on.

So much that Maddie and Jack had to tell.

And as they all sat around the table, talking over the food that Maddie had prepared for them, she had learned so much.

The married couple had taken a couple of vacations in the years that Jazz and Danny had moved out of the house. Maddie had gotten to do what she's always wanted to before she died: to sail out at sea. They stayed on a gorgeous, expansive Caribbean ship that took them to the Bahamas and the Dominican Republic. Of course, Jack hadn't been too fond of the idea until he was told about the various delicious foods that were often provided on these ships. Italian, Mexican…

A fudge fountain.

Yes. A humongous fudge fountain in the middle of the dessert bar with treats such as Oreos, vanilla wafers and strawberries to dip in it.

Needless to say, he was in Heaven.

They had even taken a couple of excursions. She convinced him to come along with her after a compromise that she would tag along with things that he thought were fun to do. They met all types of people, viewed exotic animals and got to walk on the beach at night.

Sam was almost jealous to hear it; she wished that Josh had loved her enough to do these things with her.

Danny, on the other hand, looked intrigued.

"I'm surprised you could even get Dad on the ship."

"Oh, your father was a big baby. He kept crying about how he was worried it would sink."

"Now that's not what happened," Jack retorted.

"Really? Do tell."

"Well, it's just… you know how I do with water. It makes me kinda sick."

"Oh, please. You were deathly afraid of the ocean. I couldn't even get him to come out on the deck to overlook the water. He was too scared to get close to the rails because he was worried that he'd fall."

"Well I'm glad that you guys got to spend more time together," Sam choursed.

"Yes, well… it's a shame that you and Danny didn't work out. We could've all gone: us, you two, your parents, Jazz and her husband. You know she asks about you all the time?"

"Jazz misses me?" Sam wondered. "Her and I weren't exactly close."

"Yes, but she likes you a lot," Jack noted. "In fact, I think she thought you were a pretty good influence on Danny growing up. You had a very strong head on your shoulders."

She shrugged. "Maybe."

Once dinner was done, Sam helped Maddie do the dishes while Danny and Jack had gone down to the basement to view the latest ghost hunting equipment they had been working on.

She stood at the sink, rinsing off the suds of the dishes that Maddie cleaned with a dishrag and set down in front of her. It followed in a pattern: rinse and stack. After all these years, Danny's parents had been the same. Whenever she and Tucker would spend the night, she'd always pick the dishes and bring them to Maddie before asking to help clean them. In the beginning, she wasn't high enough to reach the sink, so she'd just hand one dish at a time to Maddie, who would do all the cleaning herself. As she got older she got involved with a bit more teamwork. Sometimes they would alternate: Sam would wash and Maddie would rinse and stack.

She missed doing things like this with them.

She missed being young and innocent, able to make mistakes without being beaten for it.

It made her happy knowing that she could do it again, even if it was just one last time.

"Hey Mom," she spoke out of nowhere, "can I talk to you about something… personal?"

"Of course," Maddie's voice was filled with a maternal warmth. "What's on your mind?"

"Well… you know how I'm married to Josh, but I'm not happy with him?"

"Mhm."

"And you know how Danny is engaged to Sarah and how he loves her very much, but he never really brings her around?"

"Wait… I think I know where this is going."

Sam paused. She could feel her breath hitch in her throat. "You do?"

"You two are having an affair. Aren't you?"

"...Man, you're good at this."

"It's called woman's intuition," she smirked. "Sam, dear, listen… I know that what you two feel for each other is powerful and overwhelming, but you and I both know that what's going on is wrong." Sam nods, listening to her every word. "Believe me, it's hard seeing you two off with different people to dedicate the rest of your lives to when everyone knows how it should really be. You and Danny were perfect together; that's not something to be easily forgotten. But if you want to know what I think, then here it is: I think that you and Danny should just do _whatever feels right."_

"But what if you don't know what feels right?"

"Trust me, honey… if you listen closely to what your heart tells you, it will show you the way."

 _Listen closely to my heart?_ She thought.

"My heart is telling me to sit down," she said, "and confess everything to Danny-tell him how much I love him and how Sarah isn't the right one for him. It's telling me to leave Josh behind… to leave everything in my life behind… and come back to wipe my slate clean."

"And if that is what your heart is telling you to do," Maddie smiled, "then what's stopping you?"

Sam chewed on her lip, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks. Her eyes searched the pattern of the curtains on the window in front of her. Aside from Josh… what really was stopping her? There were a variety of things that she felt when she kissed Danny: guilt but also hope... sadness but also joy... pain but also an absolute euphoria.

But despite all of that, one feeling outshined the others.

Without looking back at her, she answered her question with the only one that she was sure of.

"Fear."

…

The door opened slowly, the scent of pine turning into the scene of roses.

One sniff made Sam gave a faint smile; it was Jazz's room, alright.

Danny walked her in, and it appeared to her that he was just as fascinated with Jazz's room as Sam. Everything down to the smallest detail remained untouched. The pink walls. The picture frames.

The flower decals.

 _God, I'm not even a Goth anymore and I still feel like puking._

"Uh…" Danny rubbed the back of his neck. "Are you going to be ok?"

"Yeah. I'll make due."

Her amethyst orbs began to drift. She sat down on Jazz's bed, and Danny leaned up against the doorframe. His arms were crossed and seemed to have something to say. As curious as Sam was, she wasn't the least bit fearful of hearing it when she found herself asking: "you good?"

"Are you?" Danny's eyebrows knitted. "With everything that's been going on… I just want to make sure you're alright. It's been one hell of a week for you, I'll bet."

"It's definitely had its highs and lows," she shrugged. "I got the shit kicked out of me, but what else is new? I got reunited with my best friend/ex-boyfriend who loves me more than my own husband does but we can't be together because he's taken and I'm taken. I guess it's half full _or_ half empty, depending on how you want to perceive it."

"Speaking of… your eye is looking so much better. It's not even that swollen anymore."

"It still feels like it's on fire."

"Well, yeah, you got glass in it. It's gonna be like that for a bit."

"Do you think I'm going to regret not going to the hospital?"

"I guess that all depends. If it heals, no; if it doesn't… obviously."

The ticking of the cat-themed clock flooded their ears, causing the silence around them to swallow them whole. She hated the awkwardness between her and Danny. It felt strangling and hollow. They used to be so close; they used to be able to open up to each other. They weren't afraid of affection, love or just talking. Now it was as if they had to start all over again.

And Sam was the only one who wasn't afraid to do it.

"Can we just… talk about this?"

"About what, Sam? There's nothing to talk about. We made a mistake; there's nothing else that needs to be said."

"But it wasn't a mistake, Danny," she stated matter of factly. "Nothing that we've ever done together was a mistake."

"Sam, stop-"

"Stop what, Danny!?" She rose to her feet, anger emerging in her voice. "Stop telling the truth!? Stop seeing things for what they are!? I'm just saying that we can't keep running away from this… what's going on. It's always going to be there. We mind as well talk our way through it."

"Sam, what part of this do you not understand!? There is no talking our way through it. It's too late to go back and change everything. You're married; I'm _getting_ married. It's over."

"But I just-"

"Sam," Danny grabs her shoulders and gazes deep into her eyes. "I love you… and it's not that I don't want to be with you. I know how strong this urge is for you too, but… _I love Sarah too._ And I can't break her heart just because my feelings are confused… and maybe yours is too." Sam scoffed and shook her head but Danny stopped her before she said anything. "What Josh is doing to you is fucked up in every way it possibly could be. He's manipulated you, abused you, made you think you were nothing without him… that your feelings are invalid. Sorrow causes desperation-desperation to get out… to be free. The desire to be saved. That's all you really want, Sam. You don't want this to go anywhere… you just want to feel loved again. There's something that you saw in Josh that made you fall in love with you, and it's still there. It's just… it's broken. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Sam felt her heart shrivel up in her chest, being crushed by the feelings of despair and disbelief. She had never fathomed that Danny would ever say words similar to these; she never thought he'd sound so confident in tossing aside any fragment of what they used to be. She never thought the day would come when she felt completely shut out by the one man that truly understood her.

But the day had come… and Sam couldn't have felt more hopeless than she did in that moment.

And all of the sudden, her brain poured so many emotions into her that she couldn't decide which one, in particular, stood out the most. She felt angry, depressed, scared, guilty, betrayed…

But if there was one that she could truly focus on-one that she could truly identify, it would be compunction.

She hated going off to school; she hated that Danny had followed the same fate.

She hated Josh for worming his way into her heart and then busting it into a million pieces.

She hated Josh for taking away every happy moment she shared with him and replacing it with hopelessness and affliction.

And the one thing that she regretted most of all was the dilemma that she had put not just herself in, but Danny as well.

She could hear it in his voice; she could see it in his eyes. Only a fraction of him truly meant what he'd said.

But it didn't matter much to her, anyway.

They both knew that, in a way, it was true… and the truth hurts.

She didn't even bother to answer him. He took her silence as a cue to leave the room. He let go of her and, with a sigh, turned and began heading for the door.

"Danny."

Sam's voice stopped him, and he stood still.

He didn't turn around.

He didn't respond.

Instead, he allowed her next words to cloud his mind relentlessly.

"If you think that it's ok to lie to me for the sake of being a saint, fine. I don't care…" she crossed her arms and her lips tightened. What once was in an innocent glance slowly morphed into a glare. "But at least have the decency to not lie to yourself."

His shoulder slumped, and with that he left the room and shut the door, leaving Sam's body to return to a softened and relaxed state.

A part of her felt bad for trying to convince Danny of going against his moral belief. They both knew that cheating was wrong; infidelity leads to a dark crossroad in which the partner in question was blinded. She knew that it was wrong to swear yourself to someone for the rest of your life and then double-cross it by running off to someone else.

And yet at the same time, Sam felt that what she was doing was right.

Besides, even though the truth hurts… lying is the culprit that leaves the deepest of wounds.

…

 **A/N: It took me long enough to finish this chapter but I finally did. I was going to upload it as a Christmas gift to you guys since I made it twice as long as my previous chapters. However, that didn't work out as well as I wanted it to.**

 **Until next time!**


	5. Confrontation

**A/N: This chapter is looooooooong so bust out your popcorn because it's gonna be a crazy ride. Also *tw* please proceed with caution.**

...

 **~S~**

 _Click._

" _A lie is just a lie_

 _A cry is still a cry_

 _The past becomes the crime in my mind."_

A somber tune played on the radio, eliciting a deep, dragged out groan from Sam's throat. She rolled over and looked at the clock.

 _8:00 AM. Did I really set it that early?_

The melody shifted, transitioning from R&B to rock.

" _Suspicion, suspicion_

 _How you've changed my heart_

 _Suspicion, suspicion_

 _Unchain my heart."_

 _God, I hate how relevant this song is… it's like God is sending me a message or something._

She hit the OFF button and turned onto her back, the bed sheets rustling around. Whilst staring up at the ceiling, she contemplated getting out of bed. She had been too tired to do very much. Ever since the previous events went down, she hadn't had much energy to function properly. Her dainty, thin fingers came up to lightly touch her previously injured right eye to find that the swelling had gone down immensely. It wasn't throbbing as much; it no longer felt like it was being engulfed in flames.

She could blink both of her eyes and, excited about this newfound discovery, she dropped her head off to the right to look at one of the posters still taped to Jazz's wall. Her sight wasn't perfect, but she saw things much more clearly than she had just a day before.

She tossed the blanket off of her, standing to her feet and going to the mirror. She lifted up her shirt, peeking at the bruises that were just shy of her hip bones. They were beginning to fade, which made Sam as relieved as she could've been.

 _Hopefully, this is the start of a new life for me…_

She sighed, walking to Jazz's old dresser just off to the right of the foot of the bed and digging through the clothes she took from her duffel bag the night before. Danny insisted on her unpacking her clothes and making herself comfortable. After all, he didn't intend on letting her go back home anytime soon. She grabbed a navy blue t-shirt, a lacy black bra and a pair of denim jeans before changing out of her pajamas. This was the first time that she's felt excited about getting out of bed in a while. Though she wasn't a hundred percent safe just yet, she was alive more than she'd ever been. She'd gone from stubborn teenager to independent woman to a broken human being before she'd even realized it. It was fascinating how much one person could change an individual; it was even more so how love could do the same. Just when you think you have life figured out-just when everything becomes a little bit more clear…

Love can knock right back to where you started from.

She cleared her throat, running her palms over the wrinkles in her shirt before closing her hand around the doorknob and turning it towards the left to open the door. Upon entering the hallways, she saw an open door just across from her.

Danny's old room was completely barren.

Lying on the comforter just beside the nightstand was a piece of paper that appeared to have some sort of writing on it. As Sam got closer, she realized it was a letter.

Addressed to her.

She picked up, her polished nails reflecting from the beams of light shining through the window, and held it close to her face:

 _Sam,_

 _I drove back into town for work this morning. Tucker messaged me earlier and said that he's going to contact my mom about him coming over at around 10 AM for you guys to go out and spend some time together and catch up on lost time. Don't worry––you guys are heading someplace private so that you can easily lie low. I get off at 3:00 and then I'll head back there, but in the meantime please make yourself at home. Visit your parents. Relax._

 _Today is the first day of many that you begin to heal._

 _\- Danny_

 _It feels so good to be back home,_ Sam breathed in relief, turning to leave and head downstairs.

Upon doing so, she made her way into the kitchen where Maddie had already begun cooking breakfast. She smiled as her eyes explored the countless platters sprawled amongst the counters. It was obvious that Maddie was unsure whether or not Sam was still a vegetarian (she was) because she had only made one heaping plate of breakfast sausage between her and Jack and the rest was ultimately Sam's domain.

Maddie turned suddenly and saw Sam standing in the doorway, leaning on her left side. She grinned.

"Sam! You're awake!" She set the skillet containing a half-cooked pancake down on the stove, adjusting the knob on the stove to a low heat setting. "I'm glad. I was just about to wake you up. Breakfast is almost finished."

"Wow… you really went all out, Mom."

And she really did. It was practically a buffet: eggs, sausage, pancakes, toast, bananas, apples, pears, orange juice, green tea, coffee…

Even when Sam had a choice, she didn't have a choice.

Sam scoffed in delight. "Mom… I don't even know where to start."

"Well, start with the pancakes! I made them without dairy. And got up early this morning and ran to the store to get you some of your favorite fruits."

"Oh, Mom… you shouldn't have, really––"

"Samantha, dear, you're _family._ This house is your house and you're welcome to anything, always. Now come, sit."

"Oh, but Mom––"

Maddie held her finger up as if to silence her and motioned for her to take a seat.

Sam smiled sheepishly. It definitely caused some memories to flood back. How had everything become so distant? The six-year-old Sam Manson seemed like someone who only existed in a different dimension… some alternate reality.

It didn't feel like it was someone that she ever was.

She took a seat, eyeing some of the platters with eyes of pure lust. She was hungry like the wolf; it had been so long since she was allowed to have a decent meal without being yelled at for eating too much or too little or eating at all. She was so used to Josh restricting her of practically everything that to be tossed into a complete food pit was a bit overwhelming for her. She kept waiting for the "but" to come, however, Maddie just set a plate of food down in front of her and raised her eyebrows with a nudge of her head, giving her a silent "go ahead".

Sam picked up her silverware and chowed down, and Maddie's jaw practically dropped.

"Didn't have enough at dinner last night?"

"No, I did," Sam shook her head, shifting chewed up food to one of her cheeks. "I barely get to eat a decent amount with Josh constantly hovering over me and monitoring my intake."

"You poor girl," Maddie shook her head. Sam glanced over her shoulder to see that she was prepping a plate for Jack for his arrival, and had set it in the microwave before grabbing hers and sitting just beside her. "How did you get so caught up in something so horrible?"

"Long story."

"I'm sure. How long have you two been together?"

"Ten years… or something like that," she shrugged. "Honestly, I can't tell you. After a while, everything kind of just blurred together. Every morning feels so much more dragged out than the one before, I've lost track of the nights… had it not been for my wedding date being engraved into my ring, I think I would've forgotten completely."

"Have you called the police?"

"Why is everyone asking me that?" Sam got a little defensive, and it was blatant in her voice. "It's not like it's such an easy thing for me to do."

"Honey, you don't have to get critical," Maddie shook her head, sympathy in her eyes. "I was only wondering."

"No," Sam's breath shook. "No, I haven't gone to the police; I don't plan on being murdered in my sleep."

"He told you that?"

"Well, that… and I just figured you know? Obviously, if the cops get involved, he's going to know who ratted him out. Our neighbors don't care and our friends haven't even seen us out and about together in ages."

"Aren't they suspicious?"

"Good question," she fed herself a slice of an apple, "maybe you can find that out for me."

Maddie's shoulder slumped and she leaned back in her chair.

"I'm sorry," Sam spoke lowly. "I don't mean to be so bitchy about this. I'll start over… he took my phone, anything and everything I could use to communicate with family or friends, and kept them from me. That was so long ago… I haven't talked to my parents in at least four or five years. They're probably worried sick about me. I missed out on a lot… almost everything, because of him."

"I'm so sorry, Sam… you know that if we knew about this if we knew what was going on, we'd––"  
"Yeah… I know," she looked up, "you'd help me."

Maddie gave a nod. Sam reassured her with a hint of a smile and looked back down at her plate.

They sat in silence for a bit. The humming of the refrigerator drowned out any spoken words or uttered breaths, leaving Sam to drown in her thoughts.

She loved that she was back home, returning to a life that she was more familiar with, but she hated how easy everything seemed to be. It was too good to be true. She had this lingering feeling that Josh would bust through the front door, grab her by her hair, choke her out and drag her out of the house. It was sad how someone could get used to virtually anything… even getting beaten repeatedly.

" _Sam!"_

 _Her eyes shot up, hands falling protectively on her swollen abdomen. She'd taken the covers she had been laying underneath and drew them closer to her body, burying herself deeper within them. It was never good when Josh yelled. Never good… in fact very painful. They had just gotten done making up the day before for a conflict equally as deadly and terrifying._

 _She could only imagine now just how horrible this coming catastrophe would be. She knew that even her poor child was terrified, as he was kicking so hard she thought he'd poke a hole right through her. She rubbed her palms against her skin, letting a long drawn out 'shush' escape just aloud from her lips._

 _Her breathing was shallow._

 _She tried bracing herself for the worst, but she could never fully prepare herself for her husband's wrath._

 _It all started with a loud bang as the door was kicked open, pieces of wood flying off to the side and the sound of metal clanking to the floor. Her pupils veered down to see that the lock had completely busted, and it was sprawled on the bedroom floor alongside bent screws._

 _He stepped into view, and she could see a glass bottle glistening in the bedroom light._

' _Oh, God...' she thought dreadfully. 'He's drinking now?'_

 _Sam had been more afraid of him now than ever._

 _He took a long chug and set the empty bottle down on the dresser. His hands glided ever so slowly on the surface of the furniture as he pulled away from the head of the bottle. He took a step toward her and she pulled back slowly. There was a time when he got closer to her with each one rather than further… more distant. Now it was as if a stranger who'd just broken in was moving in on her._

 _Her eyes moved down. They seemed to trail very cautiously as if a sudden jerk of eye movement would cause the bottle to come hurtling down towards the ground._

 _She gestured towards it. "How much of that have you had?"_

" _None of your fuckin' business," his words slurred. "I didn't come up here to talk about that; I came up here about that goddamn_ _ **parasite**_ _in your body. Whose is it? Mine… or someone else's?"_

 _Sam was genuinely confused. How did he get the idea that she had been cheating on him? She never even left the house!_

" _What are you talking about, Josh?"_

" _Don't act like you don't know," he spat._

" _But I really don't!"_

 _He holds himself from running after her, visibly jerking his body and causing her to flinch. He stops himself, holding out a finger to her and taking a deep breath. His shoulders were tight; his chest was rigid._

" _Josh, really… I don't know what you're talking about."_

" _Sure you don't… you're a fuckin' floozy, that's what you are."_

" _Why would you call me that!?" Sam shot back. "I haven't slept with anyone else but you!"_

" _I'll bet that baby isn't even mine-!"_

" _It is yours," her eyes began to water. "How could you say that? If you think that I'm such a horrible person, then maybe I should just go! And I swear that if I do, I'll never come back!"_

 _She scoffed, brushing past him and heading towards the door. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him put his head in his right hand and his body begin to shake. She was so caught up in a whirlpool of emotional stress until she finally picked up on his body language._

 _He was… crying?_

 _He had been angry just a second ago and now he was crying._

 _Was he insane?_

" _Are you crying?" She asked almost guiltily._

 _He sniffled, letting out a sigh before looking back up at her. She verified that he had in fact been crying; his red puffy eyes spoke in silence._

" _Why don't you love me, baby?" His voice sounded strangled and tight. She felt a weight drop on her chest._

" _Oh… Josh…"_

 _He practically stumbled over to Sam, his whole body sulking towards the ground as if dragged by an anchor. An immediate rush of sorrow swept over her. She didn't know what she was doing wrong that made him feel so unloved. She didn't mean to disappoint him as much as she did; she didn't even really know what she did wrong._

 _But whatever she had done, it clearly made him upset._

 _And she wanted to change that._

" _Josh…" she turns around, her voice trailing off as she reaches out towards him._

 _Quick as a flash of lightning, he grabs ahold of her by her biceps and slams her back against in the wall just behind the bedroom door. She yelps in fright and he hold his forearm against her throat, shoving it harder against her esophagus._

" _You're… not… going… ANYWHERE. Do you hear me?"_

" _Josh, please…" Sam whispered._

" _Please what!? You're gonna fuckin leave me!? Where are you gonna go!? To some other man's house!?"_

" _Josh, please… the baby…" her voice was frail. "You're going to hurt the baby."_

 _He scoffs in resentment, letting Sam go before slightly pacing left and right. "I'm gonna hurt the baby," he repeats under his breath. His eyes are focused on the ceiling above them. Sam's hands lay protectively over her womb, setting themselves up for any danger that may present itself. Josh was frightening when he was angry, but even more so when alcohol was added to the mix. Then he became unpredictable._

 _In the moment, Sam had let her guard down._

 _She thought that he was calming down._

 _She thought that he was going to walk away._

 _So, absentmindedly, she let her hands slowly sink to either side of her body, waiting for any sign of surrendering from him._

 _But by the time that she realized that she wasn't going to get one, it had been too late._

 _Everything happened in a complete time lapse, so fast that it beat a blink of an eye. The door came flying towards her, and she tried her best to turn her body to where her arm would take most of the impact, but she was a moment too late. The force was so powerful that she felt the metal doorknob practically knock her body back against the wall behind her. A sudden gasp cleared her vision of the world around her from which she had almost begun drifting from._

 _She had wished more than anything that some other part, any part, of her body had taken the damage… even if it were her head._

 _But instead… she felt the thick, sticky and warm sensation trickling down her leg and knew by the smell that it wasn't urine._

 _Metal._

 _Her abdomen felt bruised._

 _Her legs felt damp._

 _Completely numb, a collage of emotions stinging her face and causing it to completely stale, she reached down and felt outside of her pajama pants. After running her fingers along some of the damp material, she raised them back up to come face-to-face with dark red tips._

 _Blood._

 _She was bleeding._

 _She noticed it was even worse when she looked down to the floor; she was bleeding a lot. It was pooling around her feet._

 _Josh sickeningly let out a laugh and muttered something along the lines of "fucking slut" before leaving a distraught, pale-looking woman. She blinked once._

 _Twice._

 _Three times._

 _It was only then that it finally sank in just how severe the situation at hand was._

 _Her knees gradually gave way and as she headed for the ground, she began to weep. Harder and harder, she did._

 _Josh never came back._

" _No," she whispered, her bottom finally landing softly on the ground. Her hands, whilst shaking violently, attempted to gather up the blood spilling profusely from her nether region as if keeping it together would somehow repair the damage that was done. Her hands glided like oil on a surface, but no matter how hard she tried to rub away what she saw, she knew that what had happened was irreversible. Then, as if seeking confirmation, her bloodied hands came up to her swollen abdomen in a race to cover each section._

 _She had left no place untouched._

 _The imprints of her hands stained her t-shirt._

 _She didn't feel him moving._

 _He was quiet._

 _He was still._

 _Each passing second felt like hours._

" _No," she began chanting, each one growing louder and more forceful. "No,_ _ **no,**_ _**NO!"**_ _Her tears began traveling in colonies now, so much that the entire front part of her shirt was soaking wet. "My baby…_ _ **MY BABY,**_ _oh my God, no! NO! Josh, please! Please, Josh, you have to take me to the hospital! He's not moving, Josh! Please, my God!"_

 _She felt her heart crunching and squeezing._

 _A vice grip was wrapped snugly around her throat._

 _Her lungs felt as if water had completely filled them up._

 _She had to swallow the bile traveling up from her stomach._

" _Josh, for fuck's sake," her bloodshot eyes staring out the door beside her, "take me to the_ _ **fucking**_ _hospital! Our baby is hurt!" She bowed her head and closed her eyes, praying with as much hope as she could possibly muster out loud._

 _If there was any chance that God could save her baby, she had to at least try._

" _Please, God, please… not like this… not like this… please don't take him from me. Please..."_

 _Her heart was thudding like a hammer on cloth._

 _She had cried so hard that she could feel a headache coming on._

 _She couldn't even bring herself to stand up on her feet again. She was completely nerve-wracked._

 _Her first and only child, the one she had promised to love, nurture and cherish for the rest of her life, had been taken from her in one devastating spur of the moment._

 _And there was nothing that she could do about it other than stare at her reflection in the pool of blood beneath her._

"Sam, dear… are you alright?"

She heard Maddie's voice filled her ears and she snapped her head up, looking at her with what she thought were calming eyes. "What?"

"Sweetheart, you're crying… a lot, actually. I've been trying to get your attention for the past couple of minutes now. You completely spaced out."

"I…" Sam wiped her cheeks from the tears racing to beat the others down her face. Her words broke apart; her breath hitched. "P-Please excuse me, Mom-I h-have to go get some a-air."

She immediately got up from the table with much urgency and walked quickly out of the kitchen, and just as she rounded the corner she bumped into someone rather harshly.

"Ow!" She whimpered, and the person before them grabbed her arms.

"You ok?" He spoke.

"Yeah, I'm good," she looked up and was taken aback when she came into contact with her long lost best friend.

The complete high school techno geek that her and Danny always made fun of.

The disgusting slob that would spit chunks of a cheeseburger in Sam's face whenever they ate together at The Nasty Burger.

The kindest and most honest person that anyone could ever meet.

Tucker Foley.

"Tuck?" Sam asked, the reflection of the living room light showing in her eyes.

The dark-skinned, black-haired man stared at her in shock before grinning widely. "Fancy seeing you here, huh?"

She lunges in, hugging him tight as he returns the milder version of the favor with only a slight grip around the base of her back.

"I've missed you so much."

"It's been so long," he mumbles into her shoulder.

The last time that she and Tucker spoke it was not too long after she and Josh got married. They had gone back into town years before to visit Sam's loved ones but never came back for obvious reasons. That was a time where the world made sense.

Where _Josh_ made sense.

She never thought she'd ever see her friends or family again.

She pulled back, looking him up and down.

"I'll bet you haven't changed a bit…" she mumbled jokingly.

"What do you mean? I've reached my growth spurt."

"You know what I mean."

"Nah… still the same me, for the most part. Only I've officially settled down. Did Danny or Mom tell you about our arranged plans?"

 _Cute… Tucker was used to only call Maddie Mrs. Fenton. I guess she rode his butt about it, too._

"Yeah," she answered with a semi-long exhale, "apparently we're going out to talk?"

"We're going somewhere a bit on the DL. They just build a place called Clancy's Coffee. It's still starting out so not a lot of people know about it yet. It's kinda like a Starbucks…"

"Sure," she smiled. "I would love to go. I just, uh… gotta finish my breakfast. I want to fill myself up a little bit more so that I'm not easily swayed into buying coffee."

"Understandable. I think I might tag along; it's been awhile since I've had Mom's cooking."

 _Yeah,_ Sam thought to herself, feeling her feet move back towards the kitchen.

 _Me too._

…

 **~T~**

Tucker didn't want to admit—perhaps out of guilt or preference—but Danny wasn't exaggerating when he said that Sam was much different than she was before. Of course, she didn't look awful, by any means, but he had the feeling that that was really only due to her finally being in a place where she was comfortable.

For the most part, she still looked like shit. Constantly looking over her shoulder, spacing out at random times, such as in the middle of conversations, and essentially avoiding eye contact whenever Josh was brought up even in the tiniest manner of speaking.

Josh had damaged her to the point of incomprehension, and for that, Tucker wanted blood.

But as they sat across from each other at the cafe, Sam looking out the window to watch the pedestrians traveling along their merry way to God knows where Tucker knew that he had to be strong.

Not just for Sam, but mostly for her.

They started off strong––she asked him about where he was in life, how being mayor was going, and his relationship with Valerie. Contrary to what everyone else thought, Tucker and Valerie were more than just cohabitating. They were due to be married within the next year, and they couldn't have been more excited. The look on Sam's face when she saw how far Tucker had come in life and where he was heading next…

It had finally clicked that he really was a stranger to the two of them.

They all really were strangers to each other.

Tucker took a sip of his black dark roast, leaning in to get Sam's attention. She clearly missed it because she continued to evade his eyesight.

"Sam," he called out. She responded with the turn of her head. "Do you… want to talk about it?"

"About what?" She asked nonchalantly.

"You know what."

"I mean… I'd be lying if I said yes… but I know that's the best way to deal with it."

He gave her a nod and swallowed hard, his Adam's Apple bobbing slightly.

"How about I ask you something first?"

"Me?" He repeated for emphasis. "I'm an open book."

"No… what happened between you and Danny?"

Tucker paused. "What makes you think something happened between us?"

"You don't have to pretend, Tuck. Danny told me how you guys talked when he called you the other night. I know exactly what you said. You said that you were only doing this for me… that you weren't doing this for him. You thought that he was playing some sick joke on you… what happened? You guys didn't stay friends when we split up?"

Tucker didn't want to get into it too much. It was a dying conflict that was doing just what he wanted it to––fading. But he couldn't lie to Sam, and he owed it to her, to be honest.

"No… no, we didn't stay friends."

"Why not?"

Tucker sighed and licked his lips, slipping his left hand into the palm of his right. "We got into a pretty bad spat before he took off. We didn't want to tell you about it because we didn't want to make you feel like you had to pick sides, ya know?"

"Is that why you weren't there when we helped Danny pack up from the house the day that he left?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"How bad?"

"Pretty bad. He came over the night before, asking me for my opinion about your guys' relationship and where it should stand when the two of you separated. I don't really know why, since it doesn't involve me, but maybe he was just looking for an outsider's perspective."

"And what did you say?"

"I told him straight. I said that it was pretty damn dumb… that there were multiple ways that you guys would have stayed together and made it work. He said that you were awfully stubborn, though, and I said that that had nothing to do with it—that if you two really loved and cared about each other, you would work something out. Besides, it's not like you'd never see each other again. Yeah, it would suck during school, but there are breaks and vacations and you guys are from the same town. I just told him how it is. He got mad and said I didn't know what I was talking about, and then I asked why he wanted my opinion if he was just going to throw it in my face. Then from there, it was a lot of swearing… and insulting… and I'm pretty sure his last words to me were 'I hope I never see your fucking face again'."

"Ouch."

"I know it was ridiculous, but we pissed each other off so much that we just kind of let ourselves drift apart. Eventually, the lack of communication was more about us being strangers than it was the actual argument. So needless to say when I got that call the other and night and saw his name on the ID screen, I was pretty taken aback. It's been well over ten years."

"But you guys are going to make up… right?"

"I'm hopeful, but not stupid. We're only talking right now because we're trying to get you out of a sticky situation. After it's all said and done though… I'd like to believe it…"

"But you don't?"

Tucker shook his head, his lips tightening. "I guess not."

"Tucker… a part of you has got to see those pictures of us… remember the times that we all spent together… the things that we shared… the adventures we went on… something has got to be what keeps you from letting go."

"I don't want to let go," Tucker frowned. "I just want to make sure that I'm not just holding on without a purpose."

Sam picked her cup up and tapped the bottom of it repeatedly on the wooden table before them. He could tell by how little effort she used that it had been completely empty.

His lips curved. "Want more?"

"Nah, better not." She shook her head. "Frequent bathroom stops; it's not particularly something I'm fond of."

"Who would be?" he chuckled. "Well, I'm at least going up to grab a water. I'm gonna get you one too."

He rose to his feet, the legs of his chair scraping against the floor. Sam held up her hand to deject, but he waved her off. "That wasn't a question." He turned and walked away from her, a half smile on his face.

He loved seeing that little bit of spark in her.

It gave him the hope that one day, she'd return to her old self again.

…

 **~J~**

Awaking to a throbbing head and blinding lights was a cherry-topper for an otherwise shitty week. In an attempt to alleviate the pain, Josh held his hand up to cover the rays shining through the window, rising to his feet. Up to date, Sam had always questioned how he can drink as much as he did. Little did she know, he drank for the pain not for what came after.

It sounded pitiful, but it was true in every sense it could be.

Judging by the constant ticking of the clock, he knew that Sam didn't return home. Instead of being angry, which naturally was the reaction he resorted to, he found humor in her long absence.

She was giving him a run for his money.

 _No problem,_ he thought as he stumbled as he walked around the couch towards the kitchen. _If she won't come to me, then I'll go to her._

He got a drink of water and took a sip, snatching the sunglasses off of the counter just beside him in passing. He got to the side of the house and peeked through the blinds, observing the surroundings and taking in every detail: a woman walking her dog, a neighbor mowing his lawn.

But his eyes landed on something much more important.

Much more imperative.

The house next door––the one that he knew Sam had gone to the last time that she "went out".

The thought of it gave him a malicious grin.

 _And I know just where to start._

…

Josh stepped out the front door, closing it behind him as his gaze slowly but surely fell on the parked vehicle in the driveway of his suspicious neighbor. It was a car that he was familiar with, so he knew that it couldn't possibly be a house guest. Making his way across the lawn, he fixed the collar on his flannel shirt, gripping what looked like a photograph in hand. He sniffed, rubbing the back of his unoccupied hand against his nostrils.

 _I clean up pretty well. Sam would be impressed._

He couldn't imagine where she was now if she didn't end up being there. But he could imagine the things he would do to the man that tried to steal his wife from him if he ever caught her with him again. She was warned not to cross him; she knew what he would do.

Whatever is coming to her is what she should have expected.

As his shoes made contact with the walkway leading up to the door, and cleared his throat and prepared himself before ringing the doorbell casually as if he had been doing something mundane. Innocent.

But to his surprise, it wasn't the blue-eyed man that he had seen previously who answered the door––it was a stunning, curvy brunette with lightly tanned skin stood before him.

And he thought Sam was a catch.

"Oh, uh… hi," she greeted soothingly. "Sorry, I was kind of expecting someone else."

"It's no problem. How are you today?"

"I'm great, you?"

"Good. I'm Josh. I live right next door, across the lawn."

"Oh, cool! I'm Sarah. I've never seen you before. Did you guys just move in too?"

"Oh, no, we've been here for a while."

She gave him a nod.

"Listen, I came to you today––and I'm sorry because really, I don't mean any trouble––but my wife has been missing since last night and I haven't heard from her."

"Oh, no," she gasped. "That's awful."

"I know. I have a picture of her right here––" he held the photograph out face down "––and I was wondering if you can just take a look at it––see if maybe you recognize her."

She took the photo from his hands and flipped it upward.

Her facial expression, which Josh had taken a note of, had shifted immediately.

It shifted to something negative––to a mixture of anger and jealousy.

 _She was definitely here,_ he thought to himself. _I can feel it._

"This woman," she began, "is your wife?"

"Do you recognize her?"

She scoffed. "Yeah. She's a friend of my fiancé… Sam, I think her name was."

"Did she come around here at all?"

"Come around?" She repeated defensively. "The girl practically made herself at home. I found her upstairs yesterday in my bedroom with him."

Josh felt his blood boil. "Alone doing what?"

"Not kissing, that I was told. But I don't really know what to believe."

"Do you have any idea where they went? She left without a note or anything, and if there's any chance that she's with him––"

"Oh, trust me, she _is._ I know exactly where they went."

…

Josh retreated to his car, sitting inside the vehicle and studying the address written down.

 _It's not Sam's parent's house, but it's… someone else's._

He slipped the photo in the visor above the driver's seat and stepped back out shutting the door.

 _I know what I have to do. I know how to put a stop to this._

He opened the front door once more and closed it behind him, laying his back flat against it.

 _But first, I'll need to prepare myself._

 _And then tomorrow, I'll be ready._

...

 **~S~**

The coffee shop had only been the start of a mindblowing day. After she went out to catch up on life with a long lost friend, he had taken her to visit her parents after years of not seeing them. She was so worrisome the whole time––constantly asking questions such as 'what if they don't recognize me?' or 'what if they get upset because they think that I purposefully shut them out?' All of Sam's question was answered with one simple knock on the front door of the mansion.

The door swung open, revealing Sam's pale-skinned, partially gray-headed mother, who had a pink floral dress on. She hadn't even paid attention to who it was at first before suddenly hesitating, placing her right hand to her mouth. Her eyes watered. Her face drained of any remaining color.

"Samantha?" she questioned in shock.

"Yes, Mom… it's me."

She let out a cry, shaking her head to and fro. She looked over her shoulder, calling out for her father before bringing her in quickly for a firm hug as if someone were going to snatch her. "We thought you were dead…" she whispered.

 _No… but pretty damn close._

Jeremy, Sam's father, came bounding down the stairs in the midst of it all, preparing to ask what the strain in her voice was for when he stopped before them. Pamela let her go, bracing her hand on her back and leading her in, Tucker following suit.

"Jeremy, for God's sake, don't you recognize her?" Pamela sniffed, wiping her nose with her hand. "It's our daughter."

Jeremy's jaw dropped, his hands limp at his sides.

When she looked into his eyes, she saw something in them that reminded her a lot of herself. It was the same look that she saw whenever she looked into the mirror.

It was a mixture of fear but relief––shock but excitement.

It was the same look Sam had given to Danny the day that he came to save her from her life.

"Samantha…" he brought in her into his arms, keeping her secure from the world around them, "my God, you're alive, you're––" he stepped back, his arms straightened out. He looked her up and down then stopped, full-fledged anger spreading across his face.

Her eye.

He was looking at her eye.

She froze, her hand absentmindedly coming up to close over the wound on her arm. She winced. It still hurt like a bitch; not nearly as bad as the day that it happened, but it hurt nonetheless.

"What happened to you?" he asked. "Who did that to you?"

"You'd never believe me if I told you," Sam shook her head.

"Baby…" Pamela whispered sincerely, her hand touching her right forearm. Sam's hand didn't move. "Sweetheart… if something is happening to you… if you're in some sort of trouble––"

"I'm fine."

"Sam," Tucker spoke up. Sam's head snapped towards Tucker, and the look on his face was a cross between "they deserve to know" and "it's up to you". She knew that ultimately it _was_ up to her to explain the situation––to explain why she had left them be for so long. But they _were_ her parents after all and had every right to be worried about her.

They deserved _something._

They deserved the truth.

"It was Josh," she uttered out, wincing as if she immediately regretted her speaking up.

Pamela and Jeremy looked at each other, clearly confused and astonished, but more than anything… incredulous. Particularly from Jeremy.

Something that Sam never initially brought up to Danny or Tucker is that Jeremy and Josh's father Calvin had worked together for many years as Sam was growing up. They were involved in various business transactions with one another and had been hand-in-hand for over ten years.

She had a feeling that her father wouldn't take her word; Calvin, after all, was a kissass.

"It's true," she continued, eyeing her father. "Everything was fine for a little while, but then he started getting really possessive and violent." Her free hand came to her stomach. "I was pregnant, and then he killed our baby by slamming the doorknob into me. He shoved my head into walls, he's raped me on multiple occasions…" she removed her hand from her bicep and pulled up her sleeve a little ways to show the gauze, long due for a change. "He did this to me just the other night."

"Oh, God…" Pamela cried, "my poor baby."

On one hand, Sam was as relieved as she could be. She gazed into her mother's beautiful blue eyes, and she sought comfort and warmth. On the other, the emotion in her father's eyes made her more than angry. She felt betrayed as if she were slapped in the face. He glanced at her as if she were a totally different person.

She began to shake. Tears traveled down her face after one hard blink.

"Dad, you've got to believe me. I'm telling the truth!"

"Sam, honey, I believe you––"

"No, you don't! I've seen that look on your face before; I know what it means!"

"Oh, Jeremy, please just hear her out. You really think that Sam would lie about something so serious?"

"I'm not saying that she's lying. Perhaps someone else did this to her? It couldn't have been Josh; he was raised well! It could've been that Fenton kid, who knows?"

"Danny?" Sam scoffed. "Before a week ago, we hadn't even talked or seen each other in _years._ How could he possibly do this to me?"

"I don't know…" Jeremy spoke in a low tone.

"What, so you think I did this to myself!? Dad, he hurt me!" Sam practically screamed, snatching herself away from her parents and backing up. "He hurt me, and all you fucking care about is your pride?! Seriously? I'm your daughter! _I am your daughter!_ For once, can you stop talking like a fucking _businessman_ , and just… be my father! Be _real_ with me!"

"Sam––" Pamela raised a hand to touch her, but Sam swatted it away.

"No, Mom!" she rejected. "No! I'm so sick of him! I'm sick of what he does to this family _constantly_ because his priorities are so messed up!" She looked back at him. "You haven't changed one fucking bit, you know that? You never cared about your family! You'd sooner take the word of a coworker that you would your wife or your daughter!"

"That's not true!" Jeremy defended but took a breath before lowering his voice. "Samantha, dear, I love you––"

"No, you don't," she shook her head. "No, you don't."

"Sam––"

"You want to see what he did?! Look at me!" She takes one more step back before taking her navy blue shirt and practically ripping it off, exposing herself in just her lacy black bra. Tucker felt awkward looking at Sam in such a vulnerable state but knew that the measure had to be taken. Pamela couldn't look away; Jeremy didn't have time to even try before his sight landed right on the faint bruises on Sam's hips.

Face red hot, she yanked the taped gauze off of her wound, which was still stitched up in a makeshift manner, and turned her body around vigorously. "Look at this!" She yelled before making a full three-sixty and lining back in sight with them. "LOOK AT ME!"

And look they did, at a sight that made them more than just queasy.

Sam had scars covering her entire torso, front to back, as well as on her legs and hips. Her waist, once purple and sore, was now fading softly into the color of her skin.

In the midst of it all, Tucker could barely hold back tears.

His parents had already failed.

" _He_ did this to you?" Pamela whimpered. "Are you absolutely sure?"

"I know that I haven't been so honest in the past…" she started "but I promise that I'm not mistaken."

All she needed was for them to listen.

All she wanted was her parents to trust her.

But her prayers were answered when her father finally let out a devastating sigh: "tell us everything sweetheart."

…

 **~J~**

 _One day prior_

Upon pulling up to a dark and quiet house, Josh began to feel an all too familiar inclination: Sam was gone again.

But this time, he was certain she had gotten far.

He put the car in park after pulling into the driveway, turning the engine off and stepping out. The wind in the beneath the night sky whistled as it blew past his head. He didn't like the sudden emptiness that he felt.

He walked to the front door and unlocked it, opening it up to an eerie and slow echo coming from the hinges. He glanced left and right and walked in.

"Sam?" He called out but was only greeted with the ticking of a clock somewhere off in the background. He didn't jump to any conclusions too soon. After all, she did come back last time.

But that was last time.

Where had she been now?

What if she was gone for good?

He set his bag down and searched around the house, nearly in routine to how he had last time.

 _Where did she run off to now?_

Until he knew it, he had searched every room in the house to no avail.

Whatever… maybe he'd just wait.

And so he did––for a half an hour… and then an hour… and then two.

He paced the floors, watched TV, chugged some liquor...

Sam never showed up.

He tried to focus on some of his work; he stared out the window, looking up at the stars… wondering where she had been.

Sam never showed up.

He downed the bottle, screamed in anger and chucked it at the wall, breaking it into pieces.

 _Sam never showed up._

He sat on the couch, completely blanking at the white wall before him. He hated the living room walls; he and Sam had come up with a plan to paint them, but they had never gotten around to it.

And now every time he sat in the living room, he felt as if he were in an asylum, listening to the seconds tick by.

More importantly, he was alone.

His head drooped back, falling against the cushion. He closed his eyes.

The white ceiling went black. Suddenly, he was standing just outside their bedroom door.

 _BANG!_

 _BANG!_

 _Josh was ramming up against the locked door. The knob gripped in his right hand, he puts his face close to the crack._

 _He grit his teeth, his brows furrowing in anger._

" _Let me in!" he screamed, continuing to push forcefully against it. "Open the fucking door!"_

" _Josh, please…" he heard his wife cry on the other side. "Please stop."_

 _He felt sweat dripping in his eyes, but it didn't stop him._

 _The hinges were chipping; he had been close to busting it down._

" _Josh!" she practically screamed._

 _To think that this all started because Sam had told him her desire to go hang out with friends. But to Josh, it had been much more than that. Sam had been so secretive and distant from him. When he tried to talk to her, she would wave him off as if he were a part of the air. She would always keep her phone close to her and never let him see her screen. The last straw was when Josh had taken it from her, and she demanded that he give it back. This resulted in a broken phone, a dent in the wall and a slap on her face._

 _Sam retreated to the bedroom, and Josh went on a hot pursuit. He was too slow, he realized when he was greeted by a locked wooden door._

 _And finally, it caved in. It clattered to the floor, rocking back and forth slightly. Sam had stepped back, falling onto the bed and covering her face with her hands. Generally, someone who had used so much strength in such a short period of time would have collapsed in exhaustion._

 _But that wasn't the case for Josh._

 _At that point, all he could see was red._

 _And Sam was right in the center of it._

 _He rushed in, giving Sam no time to look up and react before he grabbed her by the hair and flung his arm behind him, causing her to run into the wall and fall to the ground. It wasn't enough that she had left a hole in it._

 _It wasn't enough that Sam was bleeding profusely from a gash hidden just above her forehead._

 _It wasn't enough that she had gotten a concussion._

 _There she lay still on the ground, her breathing beginning to slow. She had practically been knocked out; she appeared incredibly disoriented and completely out of it. It didn't occur to him whatsoever that Sam had sustained such a bad head injury––not in that moment._

 _Josh wanted to show her just how much he angered her._

 _He was in charge._

 _He called the shots._

 _And she was going to learn who she was really dealing with._

" _You stupid fucking bitch, you!" he turned, closing in on her and giving her a stiff kick in the stomach. She coughed, clutching her stomach with her arms. Her attempt to tell him to cease in a clear voice was rather futile, as it came out more as a strangled hoarse. "J-Josh––"_

 _He didn't give her a second more to speak before he crouched down before her, wrapping his hands' palms inward around her esophagus and began to squeeze so hard that his knuckles turned white and his arms began to quiver._

 _Sam's face was as bright as a tomato; Josh had an exposed vein running through his neck and poking beneath the skin above his temple._

" _I'm sick and tired of you trying to get the upper hand!_ _ **I'm in charge,**_ _not you! You listen to me!"_

" _Josh…" she choked out, "ple–ease––"_

" _You're such a fucking whore! I could kill you; I could kill you right here, right now."_

 _Her tiny fingers came up to grab his wrists, and he could feel her tugging at them to let go of her neck._

 _But it was to no avail. His grip was tight._

" _Say it! Say: 'you're my master.'"_

" _I––" she gasped before her hands went limp. "You're my m–master."_

" _Say: 'I promise myself to you.'"_

" _I promise… myself… to you."_

" _Tell me that you love me."_

 _Sam's lips were turning blue; her eyes were getting bloodshot._

 _She didn't have much time._

" _Say it! Tell me that you love me!"_

 _Tears began to slip from her eyes, and Josh hung his head for a brief second before letting go abruptly, causing Sam to cough erratically and touch the skin of her throat. She took deep breaths, her chest rising and falling in an unsteady rhythm. Josh lifted his head and looked into her eyes. If she wasn't scared of him before, she was absolutely shitting herself now. He had turned into something that she had never seen._

 _He knew that he should've hated it, and yet he didn't know for sure whether or not it was the alcohol talking…_

 _But he didn't hate it._

 _In fact, he loved it._

" _Tell me, Samantha…" he breathed, inhaling sharply._

 _But Sam was frozen as if she had forgotten how to talk._

" _TELL ME!" He hollered, his balled up fist coming down just beside her head. She screamed in fright and began to sob. It was soft at first until it gradually became uncontrollable._

 _She whimpered, her bottom lips tucking beneath her top and sticking back out again._

 _Regardless, she managed to calm herself down just enough to finally say: "I love you."_

"Yeah," he muttered, his eyes opening up again. "Sure you do."

…

 **~D~**

 _Present_

Danny was so exhausted that he could barely muster the strength to close the door behind him. He trudged in, letting out a deep sigh as his body fell back against the solid frame behind him. The fact that he had to work when it was clear that Sam needed him the most made him hate the situation even more, but he couldn't afford to pass up the opportunity to get a promotion. They were paying close attention to every employee's performance and upon finding those who were deserving, they'd pick a handful of them to specially train as candidates to become astronauts. They were going to cover all of the expenses, and Danny would be a fool not to take such a rare opportunity. It helped that Danny had a degree in space science, but not so much that he wasn't exactly the best student in high school.

He had to find _some_ way to compensate for that.

Missing work wasn't one of them, no matter the reason.

It didn't even dawn on him that he wasn't alone until he heard laughter coming from the kitchen. He stood up, an eyebrow raising in alert before heading towards the kitchen and peeking inside.

He saw his mother, Tucker and… Jazz? Jazz and her family?

At the circular table, Jazz had been sitting at the end closest to the counter, an empty chair on her right and Ava sitting on her left. He couldn't tell who else was there by the angle of he was standing at.

 _When did she get here? Why is she here? Why didn't anyone tell me?_

He knocked on the frame and took a step in. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Uncle Danny!" The four-year-old red-haired, hazel-eyed girl came dashing towards him.

"Ava!" He called back mockingly as he opened his arms and caught her, tossing her up in the air and giving her a raspberry on her giggled before facing him and tucking her lip.

"I've missed you, Uncle Danny," she pouted.

"I've missed you too, booger but hey… I'm here now, right?"

She nodded excitedly.

"Are you giving your mother a hard time?" He asked her quietly.

Her lips tightened and her eyes looked up at the ceiling as if she were pondering her answer. She blinked and put her mouth up to his ear, cupping it to where only he could hear her. "Yes," she whispered before pulling back.

"Good job," he muttered through half part lips.

"I heard that!" Jazz's voice rang out. They both immediately turned towards her.

She had her arms crossed with a look on her face that said: "try me".

"Uh oh," he grumbled, leaning in towards Ava. "Looks like the wicked witch's broom landed. Better run away."

He set her down and she took off towards the living room. Jazz stood to her feet, exposing her red v-neck and denim jeans as she walked around the table and towards him.

"Hi, little brother," she smiled. He hugged her tightly, and he felt her chin rest comfortably on his shoulder.

"Hey, Jazz."

She escaped his grip and examined him, taking in his drastically changed physique. Humming to herself, she placed a finger to her lips.

"There's something different about you," she smacked her lips. "You look…"

"Taller? Buffer? More handsome?"

"I was going to say 'older', but yeah… we'll go with all of those too."

"Look who's talking," he smirked.

Danny hadn't been so happy in what felt like ages. First, it was reuniting with Sam; now it was seeing Jazz and his niece again after what felt like years. He had forgotten that Jazz brings her family up from Florida once every six months, along with holidays, to come and see them. With everything that had been going on, Danny completely blanked it.

Maddie must have known all along; maybe she was keeping it from him as a surprise.

His genuine, heartfelt smile turned to a frown when his eyes set on Tucker, who was looking down at the table to avoid eye contact. By mistake, he had glanced up at him and their eyes locked.

He knew it was ridiculous. Eventually, he and Tucker were going to have to work their differences out, not just for Sam but for themselves as well. He wanted to speak and say something meaningful––something truthful. 'Hey man, what's up?' or 'What's goin' on Tuck? Haven't seen you in a while.'

But instead, all he managed to get out was: "hey."

Tucker gave him a nod. "Hey."

"I sure hope that you liked your surprise, sweetie," he heard his mother's voice chime. She was standing by the stovetop finishing up dinner.

"I, uh… yeah, I did. How long have you known about this?"

"For a while. I was going to call you down here the day that you ended up calling me about Sam, but… you beat me to it. I think it was just a coincidence."

"Is it a coincidence that Tucker just so happens to be here, too?"

"No," Tucker responded in a stale manner. "As a matter of fact, I was _invited."_

"Yeah, well… I guess my mom always was charitable."

"Boys," Maddie shot them a glare. "That's enough."

"What's up with you two?" Jazz spoke. She was helping Maddie set the dishes on the table. "You guys used to be so close."

"Yeah," Tucker peered up at him. " _Used to."_

Danny shook his head, giving him an indication that he didn't want to fight in front of everyone else, and Tucker responded by looking back down. Danny decided to change the awkward topic with a question.

"Where is everyone else?"

Maddie was the one to reply. "Brian went to the store to go and grab some dessert for everyone and Sam is in the bathroom. She's been in there for a half an hour now. I sent Jazz to go and check on her, but all she keeps saying is 'I'm fine'. I don't know… we're not getting through to her."

"Is she ok?" He asked worriedly.

"I think so," Jazz shrugged. "If she were in trouble, she'd scream. Mom told me about her and… Josh. I can't believe it."

"Yeah, well believe it." Danny sat down just across from Tucker. "No guy is that squeaky clean without some kind of catch."

"You were."

"Hardly."

Before he could say anything else, he felt a presence looming over him from behind. In his peripheral vision, he could see raven-colored hair cover the right side of his face.

"Fancy seeing you here."

He turned to see Sam as beautiful as she always was in plain sight before him. She took the seat right next to him and he flashed her a grin.

"Speak of the devil," Maddie let out a laugh. "Dinner is almost done, you guys. We're going to have to wait for Brian, though."

"You ok, Sammie?" He whispered to her, and she responded with a faint smile and a bobbing head.

"Yeah, I just… needed a moment."

"Listen, I… just let me know if you're not comfortable here and I'll get you out of here."

"No," her head swayed to and fro. "I want to be here. Really. Besides… I think you should speak for yourself."

She nudged her head off to the right, gesturing towards Tucker. Danny slumped, rubbing his temple just between his eyes.

"Are you going to talk to him?"

"It doesn't really sound like he's interested."

"Danny… you can't keep putting this off. You need to work things out with him. This has to stop already."

Danny hated when she did that to him. When she was so rational and honest. It was one of the things that drove him crazy when they were together. He hated that she had to always be the mediator between him and Tucker, from small spats to this chaotic turmoil that they were swept up in now.

He hated when she set him straight.

But damn it, if she wasn't right…

Off to his right, he saw his niece bouncing restlessly up and down. "Mommy, Mommy, Mommy" she had been chanting, sounding out of breath with each jump.

"What, baby?"

"Are we almost ready? I'm hungry."

"Yes, so take a seat right here next to Aunt Sam."

She climbed up on the seat, sitting on it with her legs crossed. She glanced over at Sam and tugged on her shirt.

"Auntie Sam."

She glanced over at her with a smile. "What, honey?"

"What happened to your eye and your arm?"

Danny could see her body stiffen. He placed a hand on her back and rubbed it in a small circle.

"I got hurt really bad."

"What happened?"

"Just…" she shrugged, "some grown-up stuff."

"Oh," she replied with a sour look. "It doesn't look fun being a grown up."

"Trust me kiddo," Danny said as he looked back at Tucker, who was giving him a look of pure distaste. "It's not."

…

Halfway through the dinner, the whole family was cracking jokes and reminiscing about old times. Jack had come from the basement to join the group. Maddie had told Ava about the time that Jazz and Danny were little and how they used to fight all the time because Danny used to sabotage Jazz by putting numbing gel in her toothpaste or putting hair dye in her shampoo. Jazz gave Danny daggers and he shrugged shamelessly. Sam laughed; Tucker smirked.

The whole time, Danny kept looking over at the blond-haired, green-eyed beauty that was Brian and he knew just by the looks of it that he was truly a good man. He and Jazz looked so happy together. Not to mention that the guy was a complete jokester; he could tell that he was a blast to have at parties.

And Ava… wow.

Ava was gorgeous.

It kind of sent Danny in his own little fantasy––a fantasy where he and Sam had stayed together.

What if they got married and had a baby?

Would the baby look like him or her?

What would they be named?

Would they have ghost powers just like he did?

Would he make a great father?

A million things came flying through his head, but only one that he could settle on: for now, he just had to deal with being an uncle.

"My goodness, and Danny and Tucker used to make the biggest messes in the living room. Sam and I would have to scramble to pick everything up and… I just could never keep up with the two of them."

"Danny always was the messy one," Jazz claimed.

"Not by choice," Danny defended.

"Yeah," Tucker joined in. "Cut him some slack, Jazz. We all know how compulsive he can be sometimes."

Danny stifled a growl as he flashed a nasty glare at Tucker until he felt a soft, tiny hand touch the top of his. He looked over to Sam, who was giving him a calming look.

The table got quiet. It was as if everyone except for Ava could feel the tension thicken in the air around them, yet the little girl was just chomping away at her chicken cutlets.

It must've been nice to be a kid, so oblivious to the evils of the world and the obstacles of life.

No matter how much Danny had said he hated it, he couldn't have missed it any more than he did then.

Jazz decided to change the topic.

"So Mom… I'm not really supposed to be talking about this, but… I have this patient, whose name I won't disclose, that's going through some hardships… like pretty bad."

"Really?"

"Yeah. She's pretty torn up about it. She had lost her daughter to a drunk driving accident. The guy swerved into oncoming traffic. She was Ava's age. I swear I haven't cried harder in my life than I did when she told me. In all of the years that I've been a psychologist, this is the story that hits closest to me. I mean, you were always so abrupt about it growing up: about how 'when we had kids one day, we'd understand'... and now I finally do. I mean, Ava is my whole life. I can't imagine losing my child; it has to be the worst pain in the world––"

She stops suddenly.

She didn't have to say why for Danny to know.

He had already beaten her to it. Everyone else caught on not too long after.

Sam had been sitting back in her chair, her mouth slightly agape. She had stopped eating and had just spaced out at her nearly empty plate, driving her eyesight across the patterns of the design. She blinked, shifting her lower jaw. Danny had craned his head to get a good look at her face; Jazz instantly regretted saying what she did.

"Sam… I'm so sorry."

"It's fine," she swallowed dryly, picking up her fork and continuing to dig at her peas once more.

"Really, I… I didn't realize… and I completely forgot––"

"No, really… I'm fine."

Jazz slumped over, and Brian glanced around at everyone else at the table. He was genuinely confused of the situation at hand.

Clearly, no one filled him; maybe it was for the better.

Danny reached over and held her hand. "Sam?"

"I'm fine." He could hear the uncertainty in her voice.

He gave his sister a look that said 'now look what you did', and Jazz shook her head in disappointment.

Now it was Brian's turn to jump in.

"No, hun... you're right. It's a sad world that we live in. At first, everything is great and you have a seemingly perfect life: family, friends that love you… pretty soon, relatives drift apart, tragedies occur, friends become strangers… it's very unfortunate."

"Tell me about it," Tucker comments.

Danny had tried to be on his best behavior all evening––since the moment he stepped into the kitchen. He had bit his tongue and kept his mouth shut as much as he possibly could.

But he couldn't take it anymore.

Now he was going to fight back.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Danny shot back.

"Nothing in particular. I'm just agreeing with him."

"You got something you want to share with the class?"

"No… unless you're willing to share something, too."

"Guys," Sam whispered.

"I don't have anything to share."

"Really?" Tucker raised his eyebrows. "Are you sure about that?"

"I'm surer than you are."

"Don't sound so confident."

"I have no reason not to be. I didn't do anything wrong."

"That's a bit of a reach, don't you think? I was just trying to be a good friend and you threw it in my face. You insulted me, you berated me–"

"Oh, boo hoo, cry me a river over it. I asked for advice and you ended up making me feel like I was the bad person––like I was in the wrong for what I did."

"Boys, please–" Maddie tried to shut it down, but they were too deep in to listen to anyone else.

"I never said that you were! You just took it the wrong way, like you take _everything_ the wrong way!"

"Oh, like you're any better, Tucker? Who sat there, whining and complaining, all day, every day because nobody was interested in him enough to ask him to junior prom? You. Who got sour over getting paired up with Sam over the flour sack project? You. Who cries over any piece of broken technology ever? You. Who stupidly messed with an ancient Egyptian artifact and put my life in danger? _You."_

"Anyone could pin the blame on someone for _anything._ You almost got Sam killed––on multiple occasions but _twice_ would have been your own doing! Actually… _three,_ if you count nearly making her fall off of a building."

"You're naming off the times that I was overshadowed or hypnotized!? That's low, Tuck, even for you. That's incredibly manipulative and stupid. That's why you will always be a horrible friend. I'm glad I didn't keep you around."

" _I'm_ a horrible friend!? I've made sacrifices for you _and_ for Sam, but I'm a horrible friend!?"

The bickering gets louder and louder and more chaotic. Danny is so infuriated that he begins raising his voice over Tucker's, which in turn made Tucker raise his voice over Danny's until they were practically screaming. They began overlapping each other, which clearly stopped both of them from getting their point across.

"Uncle Danny?" Ava says faintly with an edge in her voice, but Danny is fired up and they've completely drowned everyone out.

"You know what, Danny!? I wish you had never survived that ghost portal blast. You would've been doing me a favor."

"Fuck you, Tucker!" Danny slams his fists down on the table, making various plates jump and a glass of water collide with the ground, a mixture of liquid and shards flying all over the place.

Sam screams and jumps back in fright, falling off of the chair and flat on her back to the floor below. Everyone stops and looks down at her. Danny, who had just barely registered what was going on, was the first to rush to her aid.

"Sam? You ok?"

She didn't answer. She just panted heavily, as if she had run a marathon. The expression on her face when her eyes made contact with his…

It was as if he had hit her.

Like, _physically_ hit her.

It was a look of genuine fear.

She was afraid of him.

Tucker was standing across the table, trying to assess whether or not Sam was hurt.

"Sammie?" Danny tried to get her attention once more.

"Sam, are you alright?" Jazz joins Danny and reaches a hand down to help her up.

"Sam?" Maddie calls.

Danny crouches down to her level and grabs onto her, wrapping her up in his arms. At first, Sam winces, but Danny gives her a few reassuring words. She holds onto his biceps, using her strength to help him pick her up. Once she got to her feet, he was able to get a better look at her.

She looked _petrified._

She was shaking violently.

Her eyes were glassy.

Her face was blushed.

She went completely pale.

"Oh, God, Sam… I'm so sorry."

"Sam, it's ok," Tucker tried to comfort her.

"Sam, honey, you're safe," Maddie cooed. "It's alright."

"Breathe," Jazz soothed her. "Danny, back up a little bit. Give her some space."

Danny took a step back, and Sam followed suit.

"I…" she began, her voice just above a whisper. "I'm s–sorry everyone. Please excuse me."

She barely finished her sentence before she hurried out of the kitchen.

"S-Sam, I—" Danny went to stop her. But she continued to put more distance between the two of them. He then called out to her. "Sammie, I'm sorry!"

But it was no use.

All that responded were rushed footsteps.

He pressed his hands up against the table top and shook his head left and right. He glanced over at Ava, who had been completely doe-eyed, and gave her a consoling pat.

"It's alright, sweetie. Everything's ok."

He wanted to go after her; he wanted to make sure she was alright.

But Jazz gave him a disagreeing look, and Danny realized that she was right. Jazz had mentioned before that post-trauma victims often times need some space and time to themselves after dealing with a flashback. The last thing they needed was to be touched or consoled.

Both men took a seat.

Nobody said a word.

There was nothing to be said.

Danny was speechless. He couldn't believe out of all things to make Sam feel…

It was dismay.

The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. The entire time he had been like a protector to her. He got her out of a sticky situation. He guided her to a refuge.

And now he had scared the living shit out of her.

 _Congratulations, Fenton. Hope it was worth it._

"Mama," Ava spoke softly. "I think I'm ready to go to sleep now. I don't feel like eating anymore."

…

 **~S~**

 _Calm down._

 _Calm down._

 _It's alright, Sam. Just breathe._

Sam had taken off from the family dinner to hide away in Jazz's room behind a locked door. She lied face down on the bed, burying her face in a soft pillow, and tried her absolute hardest to regulate her breathing.

But the darkness had brought along things she didn't want to see.

Things she wanted to forget.

She knew that none of it had been Danny's fault, but she had suffered so much…

Everything she saw and heard reminded of her of Josh in some way.

And she hated it.

Danny raising his voice at Tucker equaled Josh threatening Sam's life.

Tucker practically yelling equaled Josh screaming at her.

But what really sent her over the edge––what had really driven her deeper into the abyss she was already in––was Danny slamming his fists against the table.

That reminded Sam of a lot of things: Josh punching her face, punching holes in the walls…

The night that he almost choked her out.

Sam could feel her insides begin to churn.

She knew it wasn't right to compare the boys to such an abusive and controlling man, but it was as if the more she tried to push Josh out of her mind, the harder and more lucid each flashback became.

She was afraid, more than anything, that any second she would wake up… and this would all be a dream.

She'd be back in that God-forsaken house, in that God-forsaken life, with the devil himself.

She would still be a bird locked in a cage, yearning to spread her wings and take flight.

She would never have a fighting chance to get out alive.

She couldn't dare bring herself to face everyone after how embarrassed she was of the altercation.

So, for the remainder of the evening, she did the only thing she was good at doing: hiding behind a closed door.

…

 **~D~**

"Well," Jazz began as she started down the stairs towards the three men. They had been helping Brian set up the pull-out couch in the living room, and while doing that, Jazz was the one to go upstairs and check on Sam. "The bad news is you definitely terrified her. She'll probably have nightmares tonight. But the good news is I got her to calm down."

"Man," Tucker shook his head. "I feel awful."

"Me too," Danny confessed. "I didn't mean to scare her like that. I could never do that to Sam… she knows that…"

"It doesn't matter what she knows, Danny. She's gone through a lot; the smallest thing that reminds of her Josh will send her spiraling in the wrong direction. It's typically what happens with post-trauma victims. You need to be more careful of what you do around her. I would just give her some space tonight, ok? Leave her be until _she_ comes to _you_. When she's ready, she'll come back out of her shell."

It killed him knowing that he couldn't say goodnight to Sam, but he understood her situation.

He would wait as long as it took.

"In the meantime," Jazz continued as she straightened a blanket out over the mattress, "you two need to take some private time and talk this out civilly. It's about time you stop acting like children and start acting like adults. Sam _needs_ you guys, but how can you help her if you can't even help yourselves?"

 _Why does she always have to be right?_

"Yeah," he nodded. "Ok. Tuck–" He looked his way and before he could even ask, he took the hint and stepped into the kitchen with him. Ava was stretching up on her tiptoes, reaching for the pumpkin pie that Brian had bought earlier. She was straining, and the men could hear her huffing and puffing. When she accidentally knocked it back further away from her, she flattened her stance, her floral ruffled dress catching the wind a bit, and crossed her arms with a pouty lip.

"Need help, princess?" Danny asked.

She turned, her eyes brightening. "Yes."

Danny walked over and pulled the pumpkin pie forward, taking a sliver off with a butter knife and grabbing a plate. Once he set it down, he handed it to her along with a fork and gave her a kiss on her head. "There you go, sweetie."

"Thank you, Uncle Danny," she bid sweetly and took off towards the living room.

And there they stood, alone with their thoughts and unspoken intentions. Tucker stuffed his hands in his pocket; Danny leaned against the counter. Standing directly across from each other, it was hard to evade eyesight.

He didn't even know where to start.

Brian had a point at dinner: friends becoming strangers truly was unfortunate.

"So…" He began.

"So…" Tucker mimicked.

"I think this is the longest that we've gone without tackling each other."

"Yeah."

He took a deep breath. He couldn't believe how hard it became just to talk to someone that was just like a brother to him. They used to be able to go to the other about anything.

Now they were finding it difficult just to string a simple sentence together.

"Listen, man, I'm sorry––" he began but Tucker cut him off.

"No, _I'm_ sorry. I shouldn't have said what I said at dinner. It was a horrible thing."

"No, I… I deserved it. I've been a really bad friend."

"You haven't been the only one. It's ok."

"It's not ok, Tucker." Danny folded his arms. "You were right… about everything. You've helped me and Sam out so much… and in return, we ignore you and walk all over you. That's _not_ what friends do. Friends stick together and they're there for each other whenever they're needed the most… but all I've ever done was make fun of you or wave you off completely. I never took you seriously; hell, I even forgot _why_ we were fighting in the first place and I still decided to stay pissed at you...and for what, man? For my own convenience? Anybody can make up excuses… but that doesn't mean that they should."

Tucker started over to the counter adjacent to the one Danny had been weighing himself on and began tampering with some leftover crumbs. Danny knew that this was a tactic that he used whenever he was trying to come up with what needed to be said next, but truthfully Danny would've settled for just about anything.

He just needed closure.

Just like Sam needed to feel safe.

"Danny," Tucker proceeded to rub the crumbs in between his index finger and thumb, "remember when you and I were back in high school and we got into this really nasty fight about Paulina?" He turned to look at him. "Sam had called us out––told us how stupid we were being…"

"I remember that we didn't talk for days."

"We'd still sit at the lunch table together, but we never spoke to each other. We'd just talk to Sam individually. Until one day––" he flicked the crumb towards the wall before him, just behind the counter "––Sam said that she had had enough and told us that if we didn't work something out, then she'd stop hanging around us. She didn't pick sides or pressure us into doing anything––she just told us how it was. We ended up having to work things out on our own… and when we finally did," he then turned his entire body to face him, "we realized how stupid we were being."

Danny nodded briskly, the memories flooding back in crashing waves. He did remember it, as clear as day. The both of them had jeopardized their friendship––put their own brotherhood on the line––over someone who'd never give either of them the time of day…

Over something irrational.

Like they had done over ten years prior.

"Well… I'm starting to have déjà vu."

"Yeah," Danny agreed. "I guess this officially marks a winning record for the longest we've gone being pissed at each other for something stupid."

"And hopefully, it's the last time."

They both smiled at one another, closing in for a hand grab and pat on the back. They stuck around for a little bit before breaking their physical bond.

"I guess that means we're square," Danny laughed.

Tucker gave him a smirk. "Yeah… we're square."

And Danny couldn't have been more relieved.

…

 **~S~**

Sam had taken the liberty as to use one of Jazz's old blankets to cover up the long mirror that sat just beside the end of the bed. She couldn't bear to look at it anymore––she didn't want to keep reminding herself of the person that she had turned into. Then she had resorted to stripping herself down to throw on a pair of black pajama pants with purple polka dots and made herself comfortable. She had consulted Jazz about staying in her bedroom since she was in town with them, but she insisted on letting her have it. The pull-out bed was big enough to hold her, Brian and Ava comfortably. She wouldn't let Sam argue with her.

So, unless said otherwise, Jazz's room was now Sam's room.

At least then she wasn't afraid to truly make herself at home.

The TV remote was sitting in plain sight on the nightstand before her, but she decided to avert her eyes to the open blinds, admiring the night sky and twinkling stars. She loved that she was from a town that didn't pollute the sky with bright lights; she was able to practically count all of the stars.

She tried closing her eyes and counting sheep, but she still stirred.

She tried changing her position dozens of times, but she still tossed and turned.

So, she decided to get up and go to the bathroom.

 _Maybe a nice splash of cold water is all I need._

She climbed out from beneath the covers and stood up, grabbing the doorknob and twisting it.

She jumped back in surprise when she saw Danny standing before her.

"Fuck!" She yelped, placing a hand on her chest as she panted. "You really gotta stop doing that."

"I'm sorry," he smirked, "but it's not like I meant to."

She turns and heads back towards the bed, and Danny steps inside before closing the door behind him.

"Jazz told me to leave you be for the night and to let you come to me," he said, "but I couldn't go to sleep without telling you goodnight."

Sam gave him a faint smile. "I guess we have some type of psychic link because… I couldn't either."

"Well, I do remember saying all those years ago that we were conjoined. Remember? Your heartbeat is my heartbeat; your feelings are my feelings."

"I didn't think you'd remember that," she breathed softly.

"How could I forget?" He popped a squat right next to her, his torso angled towards her.

Sam got a sudden feeling of anticipation––almost like she was longing to do something, but she couldn't quite figure out what. Then she realized that it had to be coming from Danny. She noticed in her peripheral vision that he was squirming like he was dying to interact with something but he was waiting for some kind of permission to do so.

"I know you want to touch me," she said plainly.

"Sorry?" he asked.

"I know you want to caress me––touch my leg or my arm or something," she looked at him. "You can do it. It's alright."

"I just," he started. "I didn't want to scare you."

"I appreciate it."

"Just… with what happened at dinner––"

"You didn't do anything wrong. That was something personal."

"Sam, I saw how you looked at me. You looked… scared. Like I was going to attack you."

Sam turtlenecked, her body trying to shake the thought of Josh sitting beside her rather than Danny.

 _Focus on the present, Sam,_ she tried to relax. _Josh isn't here. He can't hurt you anymore._

But she couldn't help it. She had this horrible feeling in her gut––some weird ESP that something terrible was going to happen.

 _Stop it. You're just being paranoid._

She waved it off as paranoia, which everyone knew wasn't uncommon for her.

"I know you wouldn't, Danny," she brought a hand to his face and ran it along his cheek. He grabbed ahold of it, looking deeply into her eyes. "I trust you."

"Good," he whispered, "because that's all I really want from you."

He gives her a peck on the lips and, with a soft rub against her thigh, he stood up and walked to the door.

"Goodnight, by the way," he smiled at her.

"Sweet dreams," she returned. He left the room, and it was as if she had suddenly forgotten why she was so shaken up in the first place.

She felt at peace.

And then melatonin beginning to take effect.

She wiggled back underneath the blankets, feeling the soft fabric graze against the soles of her feet.

Her eyelids grew heavy.

She suddenly saw complete darkness.

 _So much for splashing cold water on my face._

…

 **A/N: Hope y'all liked this chapter! This story was long due for an update.**


	6. Realization

**WARNING: the following chapter contains** **EXTREMELY GRAPHIC CONTENT.** ***Trigger warning* Viewer discretion is advised.**

 **~S~**

The ticking of the clock and the choir of chirping crickets was interrupted by a sudden gasp. Sam sat up in bed, struggling to teach her respiratory system how to function properly again. Nightmares really sucked, but nothing beats recurring nightmares of memories and events you don't want to revisit. A hand placed on her chest, she rubbed her fingertips against the soft acrylic blanket, trying desperately to get a grip on reality.

 _Man…_ she thought, _it was just a dream? Shit… I guess no matter how fast I run, he'll always find some way to catch me._

The moon was abnormally bright, seeping in through the curtains. The illuminating light exposed what otherwise wasn't visible: Jazz's old teen wave bedroom. Posters of random teenage boy groups that Sam had never even heard of were plastered on nearly every wall. With the little space leftover despite it had some quotes from famous therapists and psychologists. If Sam remembered Jazz like she thought she did, then she knew it was definitely her forte. Directly in the line of sight at the very top of the wall closest to the ceiling, there was a Fenton family portrait: Maddie on the back left, Jack beside her and Jazz and Danny in the front.

Her deep amethyst orbs migrated south to see the blanket draped over her body. As comfortable as it was, Sam despised the color of it. A hot pink, designed with blue Hawaiian style flowers.

As terrible as Jazz's taste was, she compensated for it with a friendly personality. If Sam didn't know any better, she'd say that they were almost the exact same.

But no… Sam's goth phase was completely gone.

The color pink made her ill.

She rubbed her eyes, searching for the clock at the top of the right wall. She found it.

It was almost 1:00 AM.

 _Fantastic. There's no way I'm going back to sleep._

She wiggled her legs out from beneath the blanket, the soles of her feet making contact with the plush carpet beneath her. She reached as high as she could in the sky, making herself as tall as possible as she felt her muscles expand. Rising to her feet, she walked out of the bedroom-the door making a low, drawn out creaking sound as she closed it behind her.

Danny's room was right across the hall. She felt horrible for disturbing him; he was probably having a far more peaceful slumber.

But she knew that going back to sleep on her own was out of the question.

She opened his door as carefully as she could while staying as quiet as possible. Needless to say, it didn't work; the door was even louder than Jazz's. It obvious that the house was just getting old. Maddie and Jack had lived there for a long time after all, and the doors to the kid's rooms probably haven't been opened since they left for college.

Luckily, Danny was a heavy sleeper.

She tried to tiptoe in, but the squeaking floorboards blew her cover. She scolded, silently swearing to herself before closing the door behind her. She glanced around Danny's room, and the site of it made her chuckle to herself.

It was still the same room that they had left behind over ten years ago: the astrological posters on the wall, the books in the bookshelf that Danny never touched, his old computer that probably didn't work anymore… even his bedsheets were the same. Sam wondered if Maddie and Jack would ever take anything down.

She saw Danny lying face down beneath the sheets, sprawled out and slightly snoring. She thought it was cute. She recalled the various occasions that she'd spend the night with him, and had to deal with it the entire night. They'd wake up the next morning and she'd complain about how she hardly got any sleep and that she'd "buy him a machine that helps with his snoring problem", and he'd always argue with her, saying how "he doesn't have a snoring problem".

Under the circumstances that she is now, Sam wouldn't mind having to deal with it for the rest of her life if that meant that she was loved.

She tapped on his face with her index finger, yet the most that she got was a stir. She rolled her eyes, this time grabbing his shoulder and giving it a few shakes.

"Danny," she whispered. "Wake up."

"Uh," he groaned.

"Hey… wake up."

It took him a few seconds but finally, his eyes fluttered open. He blinked but sat up once he realized who it was. He must have realized that she was dishevelled because his face became slightly grim.

"Sam," he spoke groggily, "what's the matter? You ok?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "It's just that I… had a nightmare."

He yawned. "Was it about Josh?"

Her head bobbed up and down. He gave her a small, reassuring smile as he lifted the blanket and beckoned her. She crawled in with him, taking her side of the blanket from him and placing it upon her. He lied back down, the two of them facing each other. He snaked his hand underneath, tracking hers down; she met him halfway, picking up on his gesture. The old flame, once quiet and dead, was reigniting within them. They had a feeling that it had always been there even when it was dormant.

And now they were sure.

"You know," she jested, "you can go back to sleep. I'll be alright."

"Well, now I can't. I'm worried about you."

Sam had a nagging inclination that Danny had been absolutely exhausted. And he really was. It must have been a lot: reuniting with an old flame, rescuing her (if you could even call it that) from a disastrous lifestyle, taking her in and giving her a safe haven as well as going back to work and dealing with a temperamental fiancée.

She could see the bags growing darker beneath his eyes.

She felt remorseful in ways she never thought she could.

Her lips quivered and she exhaled sharply. "I know you are."

She wished that she had never let him go. She wished that she had shredded her Princeton letter; she wished that she had shredded his UCB letter. She wished that everything had turned out alright and that nothing separated them.

She wished she could go all the way back and do everything all over again.

She noticed the pillow beneath her was getting wet. She had been crying. Danny's face was sullen, and he wiped her face with his best effort to comfort her.

"Can I ask you something?" Her eyes turned red. She hated looking like a crybaby, but being with Danny made her realize just how long she had been so numb, afraid to show her true feelings. With Josh, a simple frown was punishable; with Danny, she knew she didn't have to hide. "This plan that you and Tucker made for me… how well do you think it's going to work?"

Her question threw him for a loop. He didn't look nearly as confident as he did the day that they left. "Honestly? I don't know. A protective order won't necessarily keep him away from you… arresting him won't guarantee him a prison sentence… it won't even guarantee a trial. What I can tell you, though, is that we're not going to give up. We're never going to give up… not until you're safe. Truly safe."

It wasn't an answer she was completely happy with but knew that it was something that she had to accept. He had a point. No matter how good things start to look, there's always a chance that they take an unexpecting turn. With Danny and Tucker by her side, and now his parents, she knew that she had a much better fighting chance that she did no more than a week ago.

She glanced at the frame on the nightstand just behind him, shocked at the picture that she saw. It was taken the following morning after they had sex for the first time. Her hair had been messy and slightly frizzy, and she had absolutely no makeup on whatsoever. She had one of her hands up, partly covering the lens of the camera, and it appeared that she had been… laughing. Genuinely laughing. As if Danny had said something humorous shortly before the picture was captured. She was even wearing one his shirts-her favorite one, which had a picture of a cat with glasses with the words "meows it goin'" just beneath it. Danny looked as handsome as ever, of course. His big baby blue eyes looking straight at the lens. His smile as white as the clouds in the sky. His short black hair not nearly as unkempt as Sam's.

She snorted, burying her face in the pillow.

"What's wrong?" Danny chirped.

She moved her head back up. "You kept that picture… after all these years."

He was confused at first but noticed that she was looking just behind him, then he put the pieces together. "Oh, yeah… that picture."

"Are you opposed to burning it?"

"What? Yes!"

"Danny, come on, that's like the worst picture ever! I looked awful."

"Sam," he started, "I kept that picture because to me… that's the most beautiful that you've ever looked."

She felt a lump forming in her throat. He couldn't be serious… could he?

It didn't look anything like Sam! She was… much happier there; it couldn't possibly be the same person.

"I… really?"

"Of course Sam. You've always been just… stunning to me."

"But I'm like… a totally different person in there."

"No, you weren't. To me, you were the same ol' Sam. I couldn't ask for anyone more perfect."

She breathed, shaking her head in disappointment. "I wish it was you that I married."

He gave her a half-smile. "Me too, Sammie."

"Do you?" she questioned. "What about Sarah?"

"She wouldn't have even existed to me had it not been for us going off to school."

"I guess now it's my turn to ask you…" she started. She looked deep into his eyes. "Do you love her?"

He stuck his lips together, blinking a couple of times. "Do you want me to be honest?"

She nodded.

"I do…" he leaned in, pressing his forehead up against hers, "but not nearly as much as I love you."

She couldn't help but lose all of her inhibitions. The heat of the moment had carried her away. She had forgotten about Josh, her pain and everyone and everything else around her. All that she could see was the first man she had ever loved-the first man she had ever given herself to.

And didn't want it any other way.

She smiled, getting close enough to bring her lips to his chiseled jawbone and nibble at it. He breathed sharply, touching the back of her head.

"Sam…" he uttered.

"Do you want me to stop?"

The lack of response that she got from him made her insecure for a brief moment, but was relieved when he uttered: "no."

A part of her felt guilty. She knew Sarah and knew how much she loved and cared about him.

But she couldn't contain herself.

She had longed for this much attention and affection since the day that her marriage took a turn for the worst.

He took her head, moving her lips to his. She giggled, her sweet tone coming out in vibrating sound waves that tingle on his skin. She was the first to discard an article of clothing; her camo green shirt ended up tossed in some random place on the floor that was unbeknownst to her. Danny was next, removing his blue and white striped pajama pants before flicked them off to the side. She felt his boxers, shuttering at the bulge that dared to poke through them.

How is he so turned on already?

"Wow," she whispered huskily, "you're easy."

"I can't help it… I'm crazy in love with you."

She had taken the time to work her way down in his sluggish response, taking his penis out and gradually running her tongue up against it. She heard him grit his teeth, hissing in pleasure, which motivated her to take the liberty to completely cover it with her mouth. She had gotten far too ahead of herself, because she enveloped his entire shaft and, forgetting just how long he was, choked. Danny moved the blanket, fearing that she might have hurt herself.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah," she coughed, "I just… forgot how big you were."

"Oh, come on. I'm not that big."

"Danny, you have to be at least eight inches."

"Actually eight and a half, but you were close."

"Now you're just being cocky… no pun intended."

When she was ready, she slipped it back into her mouth and began sucking, circling her tongue as far around as she possibly could.

"Fuck Sam," he moaned.

It took her awhile to figure out just how to do it properly. It had been so long since she's done it willingly that she forgot her own technique. Josh had made her do it plenty of times, but he was always so forceful that she couldn't really concentrate on what she was doing. She cupped her right hand on the rest of his shaft and moved along with the pace of her mouth, occasionally moving down to massage his testicles. The muscles in her mouth were getting tired, but she refused to quit. She was going to do whatever it took to please him.

After a couple of minutes, she worked her way back up until she was at eye level with him. Danny had looked so cute—not moving until she gave him the go ahead. She practically had to move his body for him. He was visibly shocked, and she knew that it had something to do with her chest. Her breast had gotten larger over the years. All throughout high school, she was a C cup at best and ever since she had gotten married to Josh, she had to trade out her old bras for DD ones.

He was completely flabbergasted, doing his best to force the words out of his mouth. "Sam… wow… your breasts…"

"Got bigger? Yeah, I know."

"Sam…" his eyes were wide. She could tell that he wanted to touch them; she could tell that he wanted to do a lot of things to her. He was afraid—possibly of hurting her or somehow embarrassing her or triggering flashbacks. Her fingertips danced down his lean forearms, stopping at his palms as she guided them onto her breasts. She heard him elicit a moan of pleasure.

"Don't be afraid, Danny… you can do whatever you want to me."

"Sam, I just… I just don't want to hurt you. After everything, he's done to you—"

"He doesn't matter. I know you're not him. You'll be gentle."

His fingers slipped against her skin, bringing her closer as he began sucking on her nipples. She gasped, throwing her head back as the immense feeling of gratification rushed through her body. "Danny…" His name poured out of her mouth in a tone she hadn't used in a long time. She could feel goosebumps rise on his skin.

He pressed her body harder against him. She felt her nipples perk up, and her fingers raked through his hair. As he kept one hand behind her to keep her propped upright, he snaked beneath the hem of her pajama pants, working his way inside of her underwear and stopped when he reached her clitoris. Using his index finger and thumb to rub it, he switched breasts and sucked even harder.

Her moans turned into groans. Danny always loved hearing the noises she made from sweet pleasure. She pressed his face into her bosoms. She could sense the heat radiating from her opening and Danny, reading her like a book, accepted the invitation and he rammed two his fingers into her. Her toes curled and she moved her lips down to bite his shoulder for fear of being too loud. Danny's parents had been in the next room over. She tried to be extra careful to not wake them up, but it was getting more and more difficult with each new measure that Danny had taken.

"Danny," she panted into his neck. "I don't… know how much more I can take."

"Do you want me to stop?" His face was flushed with concern. She could feel his fingers pulling out.

"No, I… I want you to… take it a bit further."

He kissed her chest, gazing back up at her. "Are you sure?"

"Yes… absolutely."

He flipped her onto her back, hovering over her. After helping her take her pants off, he slipped out of his boxers and kicked both articles of clothing off of the bed. She felt his penis press against her stomach, a warm liquid dripping just near her belly button.

"Danny," she gushed. He grinned at her, scooting himself downward. He flicked her clitoris with his tongue, making her arch her back in delight. "Oh!" She gasped suddenly, and Danny's eyes traveled up to look at hers.

"God, I've missed hearing that..." He growled as he gave her an evil look, gliding his tongue down to her opening and shoving it inside of her. Her nails dug into the sheets beneath her, grabbing a hold of the fabric and clenching it in her fists.

"Fuck! Danny," she breathed.

He darted his tongue in and out, feeling up her hips to her waist and holding her. She crossed her legs, covering the back of his head with her calves. He took her by her ankles and unwraps them again, pinning them down to the bed.

Sam was so hot and bothered by how dominant he was. It turned her on even more than she was in the beginning.

He alternated between her vagina and clitoris, making her buck harder than a ridden bull. He pulled his face out to glance up at her. In a husky whisper, he commanded: "stop squirming."

"Ok," she complied.

He spat on her opening, pushing his index and middle finger inside of her and turning them palm up, simultaneously nibbling on her fold. Sam could feel herself coming to her peak and she tried to tell Danny in between breaths of pleasure but struggled. She patted the back of his head with her hand, putting her hands on either side of his head and forced him to look up. He crawled up to her, and he came face-to-face.

They gazed into each other's eyes. Sam felt a wave of happiness wash over her completely. She had to blink a couple of times just to make sure she was seeing things for what they were. For years she had done the same thing with a man that made quake with fear. With one slip up or one order unfollowed, she would live to regret it in the hours that followed. She never thought that she'd be where she is now: sleeping with a man she genuinely loved and was more than passionate to be with.

A man who felt the same for her.

He cursed to himself, grunting in frustration.

"What's wrong?" she asked with disappointment. "Did I do something wrong?"

"God no, Sam," he said, "it's just… I don't have a condom."

"I don't care," she smiled. "I want you either way."

"Sam…" he held himself directly above her, his face flooded with worry. "Are you absolutely sure that you want to do this? You don't have to. If you want to back out, just-"

She shushed him, putting a finger to her lips for purring: "just shut up and fuck me."

With a nod, Danny thrust into her, making her let out a high-pitched gasp. Her face tightened and he leaned in, kissing her neck compulsively.

"Am I hurting you?" he whispered.

She shook her head. "No… it feels amazing." She twisted the truth, but only a little bit. She was still sore from Josh being so forceful with her the other day, but she didn't want to discourage Danny. After all, it wasn't his fault.

Unlike Josh, he was much more tedious.

He went slowly at first, waiting for the go-ahead for him to go faster. She looked up at him seductively and bit her lip, giving him a nod.

He goes faster.

Then harder.

She reaches down and massages his balls, and it motivates him like slapping a horse's bottom.

"Fuck… S-Sam… you're soaked," he said in between each breath.

She practically screams and Danny has to place one hand over her mouth in order to silence her. She breathes, trying to quiet herself.

"You gotta stay quiet, Sammie," he grinned. "You could wake them up."

"I'm sorry," she muttered beneath it.

He looked at her and she him; the heat of their breaths caressing their sweaty skins as they chuckled at the intimate silliness. He continued to pump into her, and she tried with all strength that she could muster not to make a sound.

It was growing increasingly difficult with each thrust.

Her mouth made the shape of an 'O' as her feeble attempts failed. She moved his hands from either side of her head to the sides of her neck, giving him a nod of agreement. He kept one hand there while moving the other at the back of her neck and, with a firm grip behind her head, he gently squeezed at her front, just barely compressing her windpipe and carotid arteries.

Sam was scared at first, quickly thinking back to when Josh had done something similar to the point that she had passed out. However, she trusted Danny and trusted that he wouldn't hurt her. Besides, this was something that she and Danny did a lot when they were together, and it sent her pushing over the edge every time.

"Oh," he began in a seductively low voice, "I forgot just how much you like this, Sammie."

She began clawing at his chest, and the pressure mixed with his increasing stamina elicited multiple tongue-twisting cries and groans that she had forgotten she was ever capable of mustering. She could feel him hitting her g-spot, and as she did, she could swear that there were butterflies in her stomach.

Like a tidal wave was stirring.

And it was headed straight for the shore.

He kissed her and she caught his bottom lip in between her teeth.

"Danny…" she managed to blurt out, "I'm gonna…"

"It's alright," he whispered, touching his lips to her forehead. "Do it."

His next thrust was enough to finally send Sam crashing from her high, and as she finally crashed, she knew that Danny was close. With the moonlight shining through the window, casting focus on them while the area around them remained dark, she could see the vein in his temple protruding out. It looked as if it were seconds of bursting.

"Fuck!" He moaned.

Sam felt his seed spill into her and he let go, lying down on the bed beside her.

They were panting, cooling down from their heated affair. Had sex with them always been this… heated?

This intimate?

Had Sam forgotten what consensual, loving sex was after years of coercion from her husband?

"Did…" she panted, moving her damp hair from her eyes with her fingers as she turned her attention towards him, "did that… feel wrong?"

She tried to read his face for any sense of guilt.

Any sense of remorse.

But all she had found was redemption.

It was as if he had been in chains, and Sam had finally freed him.

His eye glued to hers; his perfect teeth twinkling in the moonlight.

Danny's response had been genuine, and Sam knew that he was telling the truth.

"No."

...

Sam awoke to the brightest day that she'd seen in a long time––not only figuratively, but legitimately. Danny's walls looked much more saturated than they did when she first arrived. Added to that, she still felt an empowering euphoria from the night before. She had almost forgotten why, until she thought back.

She and Danny had sex.

Actually had sex.

After years of being away from each other… years of being broken up.

 _I guess it really was meant to be after all._

Her entire head began to drift towards the left and, upon landing, was a sight that made her gasp in utter joy.

Danny had left her a red rose, accompanied by another note. She picked up off the pillow and examined it.

"Sammie,

I know that you're still all shaken up from last night. When your dopamine high fully wears off, everyone will be waiting for you downstairs." Sam took a whiff of the rose, holding it close to her chest as she continued to read: "You won't see me until a little later, but I'm going to get out much earlier today. Tucker will take you to the courthouse today to get that protection order… everything is going to be alright. I've been thinking about it all weekend… I've finally decided that I'm going to break things off with Sarah.

"What?" Sam spoke aloud in a shocked manner. "Why would he do that?"

"I just… can't keep lying to her… about us… about what's going on. She's a good woman, and I do love her… but you and I both know who I really belong with.

I love you, Sam.

Danny"

 _He's breaking up with Sarah?_ Sam sat up in bed, the sheets just barely covering her breasts. _For sure? How can he know if that's what he really wants?_

She set the lightly-thorned flower off to the side as she rose to her feet, scratching the back of her head softly and stepping before the mirror. There was so much of a distinction since she had last seen herself–-almost as if she had become a completely different person overnight. For starters, Sam's eye was practically healed. The swelling had gone down immensely; she could barely even tell that anything happened to it at all. Her vision had cleared up, too, as she noticed that her vision was now doubled rather than singled. The fresh gauze that she had wrapped around her arm the previous night was still intact, and upon switching it out, she noticed that the stitches had done wonders to the wound. In a few days, she would be able to remove them.

All that would be left was a nasty scar.

Sam would prefer to call it a 'battle scar'.

For once, she felt solace rather than repent as her sight completely stripped her reflection.

 _Wow… I look… happier… lively… confident._

She didn't know if it was the realization that finally hit her or the intimate affair the previous night with Danny, but suddenly, she was seeing herself as that short-haired, Gothic teenager again. And when she grabbed her long-sleeved black t-shirt with likely colored ripped jeans and scuffed Converse shoes, she morphed into the person whom she truly was.

A strong, empowered woman.

 _I am not what happened to me. I don't have to be scared anymore; I_ _ **can**_ _face him._

She was going to try, with every ounce of her strength, to stay true to it.

With an uplifting grin, she exited the room and trotted down the stairs. Crossing the way to the kitchen, she halted when she saw Brian, Jazz, Ava and Maddie gathered around at the table. They were neck deep in the conversation, smiling and jeering over missed summers, past birthdays and old times when they abruptly stopped upon eight pairs of eyes landing directly on the ivory-skinned woman.

"Oh… Sam," Brian greeted. "Hello."

"Good morning, Sam," Jazz smiled. "Please come join us."

Before she could say a word, she felt something run into her thighs. She followed her eyesight down to see Ava, arms wrapped tightly around Sam's legs.

"Are you ok, Auntie Sam? I was really sad when you left. I was w… w…."

"Worried?" Jazz assisted her.

"Mhm. Worried." Ava's beautiful, twinkling hazel eyes peeking up at her.

"Aw," Sam cooed, kneeling down to her level, Ava's hands slipping from behind her knees to behind Sam's back. "Ava, you're so sweet. I was fine; Auntie Sam was… just having a bad night."

"Well, I'm happy that you're ok."

Brian chuckled. "Ava, come over here and finish your breakfast. Give Aunt Sam some space."

The youngster ran back towards her parents, her hair bouncing all along the way.

"Grab some breakfast, Sam," Maddie invited.

"Ok," Sam gave a faint smile before heading over to the counter containing several consumables. She picked a clean plate from a stack, filling it up with some fruits and topping it with silverware. Afterwards, she grabbed a coffee mug and filled it with steamed water, setting a green tea bag inside. When her meal was fully crafted, she chose an empty seat at the table and set everything down before her, taking a seat with the rest of the group.

"Where's Dad?" she asked.

"He ate already," Maddie shook her head. "He's exactly where you think he is."

The atmosphere filled with chomping and the sound of wet mush as everyone steadily finished what was left on their plate. The entire time, Sam had caught glimpses of everyone else and noticed that they were looking at her in a very… odd way.

Like they knew something that she didn't know.

"So," Maddie raised her brows, eyes traveling towards her lids whilst keeping her head tilted at her plate. "Did you sleep well last night?"

"Mhm," Sam nodded, her mouth too occupied with chewed up mandarins.

"Mhm…" Maddie hummed. Sam lifted her glass to her lips. "Because it sure sounded like it."

And then it happened.

Sam choked.

Then coughed endlessly.

"Uh…" she cleared her throat, "I don't know what you're talking––"

"Sam," Jazz began, then lowered her voice to where Ava couldn't hear, "we all heard it."

Sam's felt her face get hot, but this time, it wasn't in anger.

She was blushing.

"Oh," she let out a laugh, her amethyst orbs evading to the teal wall to her left.

"Oh?" Brian grinned. "Is that all you have to say?"

"Uh…" her voice trailed off.

What was she supposed to say?

She shrugged her shoulders and finally compiled the words: "Did you enjoy the show?"

The three other adults busted out in laughter while Ava glanced around, innocently confused.

"Why are you all laughing?"

They stopped, exchanging glances between each other and Ava. Sam giggled, resting her hand on top of Ava's.

"Nothing important."

…

If there was one thing that Sam would definitely agree wholeheartedly with, it's that she for sure wanted a daughter just as cute and angelic as Ava. According to Jazz, she could be a bit of a troublemaker, but to Sam, she could do absolutely no wrong. Ava was God-sent; there's no way that someone could say that they "hated children" after seeing how well-behaved and well-mannered she was.

Sam witnessed a prime example of this as she watched Ava carry dish after dish from the table to Sam, who in turn washed it, rinsed it and put it out to dry. Maddie had been putting away the leftovers; Jazz had been on trash duty. Generally, it was the stigma that anything related to garbage was a "man's job", but Jazz sent Brian off to do something else while she stayed behind.

It wasn't clear at first what her intentions were, but Sam had finally connected the dots.

She wanted to talk about her and Danny.

Both of them did.

 _This is going to be one awkward conversation._

"I'm beginning to feel nostalgic," Maddie beamed. "It kind of reminds me of you."

"Oh, yeah!" Sam laughed, laying a ceramic plate on its side, atop a drying towel next to the sink. "I do remember that all too well––I was like your little helper."

"You weren't like my little helper––you were my little helper. Those were the best times I've ever had with you kids. It just seems so far away now; I'm starting to wither away and… time just doesn't exist for me and Jack anymore."

"What are you talking about, Mom?" Jazz inquired from the far right corner of the room. "You don't look a day over twenty."

"Don't be a kiss-ass, Jasmine; you already know that I don't pick favorites."

"Well," she dismissed, "it was worth a shot."

Sam took a spatula from the tower of cooking ware beside her and dipped it in the dishwater, briskly brushing over it with the sponge before setting it in the twin sink and starting another. Josh had always made her cook and clean, and she often times found it easier and faster to wash as many dishes as possible then rinse them all following that, rather than just alternating. She didn't mind cleaning; it was much better than doing nothing at all. At least it kept her busy.

At least it helped her lose track of time.

Maybe that's why all of the days blended together as they did.

"Ava, honey, could you give the adults some time to talk alone?"

Ava stopped dead in her tracks, a handful of forks and spoons gripped firmly in her hand, giving her mother a look of disappointment. Sam turned to find her merely five feet behind her, much closer than she originally thought.

She gave her a wink. "Yes, Ava, you've been such a great help. Thank you so much. We'll take it from here."

Ava handed her the silverware and casually left the room, leaving only Jazz, Maddie and Sam behind.

Sam wanted to move on from the topic at hand, which she already identified before it was even brought up. She didn't want to hear how stupid she was being––how in the wrong she was for going after a man who was already taken. She didn't want to hear about how dangerous it was, considering that Josh was still on the loose and probably dead on her trail.

But contrarywise, she got the direct opposite.

"You know Sam… you don't have to be embarrassed about it," Maddie started what would be a long an awkward conversation.

"How can I not? Obviously, I'm not quiet enough for you guys."

"I mean… no," Jazz added. "But that's not really what we meant."

"I'm sure you're thinking––" Maddie snaps a lid on a Tupperware bowl and opens the fridge door "––that we're going to tell you off and say that you're in the wrong… but we're actually really… satisfied."

"You are… but… you said––"

"I told you to do what you felt was right––to follow your heart. That could've meant anything." Maddie retrieves another Tupperware container.

"To be honest," Jazz said, opening a new trash bag and wrapping the hem around the opening, "I never really liked the idea of Sarah. I mean… I've met her before, and I do like her, but she can come off as… well… she could be a bit like a..."

"Like a bitch?"

The two women freeze and look at her with a staggering stance.

"Sorry, Mom."

"It's fine," Maddie sighs. "I can't say that I don't agree."

"Have you met her yet?" The redhead set the garbage lid onto the bin.

"Oh, yeah. Our first encounter was definitely one for the books. She caught me in the bedroom with Danny and immediately suspected that I was stealing him from her."

Maddie was intrigued. "Well, were you?"

"No. What happened was Danny lent me a hoodie so that I could hide my face… in case any of our neighbors saw us together. I just… kept my head down, you know? But she just walked in at a really bad time, that's all."

"Are you absolutely sure nothing happened?"

"God, Mom, I'm not that harsh––she was right below us… I can't believe you're condoning this. I mean… it's taboo."

"Yes, but it's also the right thing to do… sometimes…" Jazz picked up the bag and flung it a little was behind her back. "Not all the time… just sometimes."

On that note, she stepped out. Maddie gave Sam a warm smile, and she immediately melted into it. There was always something about her that made Sam want to trust her way more than her own mother. Maybe it was Maddie's demeanor or better understanding.

Maybe it was because Maddie was around enough to actually be a mother.

But regardless, it was something. She just couldn't quite put her finger on it.

Maddie stepped forward, enveloping Sam in an embrace that could melt the polar ice caps. Sam took in the smell of her perfume––the same one that she had worn for years. It smelled of pine and cinnamon, and it was always the raven-headed woman's favorite, even to date.

"I don't care what anyone says; I don't care what anyone thinks," she pulled back, looking Sam up and down before finishing. "You did the right thing."

"Thank you."

"You know, everyone is going out tonight for dinner. It's the second to last one before Jazz takes off. That being said, you're more than welcome to come or you can hang back and just sit it out until her last night. It's totally up to you."

As much as she wanted to go and be out in public for a change, she knew that she wasn't yet ready for that kind of pressure. She hadn't left the house in years; small crowds, let alone a restaurant full of people, would be too much for her all at once.

She got lucky at the coffee shop; an eatery would be a bit of a stretch.

"You know what? It's so sweet of you guys to invite me, but I think I'll pass on this one."

"Are you sure? It wouldn't be the same without you."

"Yeah, you know, I'm just… not ready yet. I want to ease into it and… too many people at once would make me anxious."

Maddie gave her a lopsided but soft smile. An expression of sympathy and understanding.

"I get it. Just… please let us know if you want us to bring anything back for you."

"I think I have enough food here to last me through World War III, but I'll keep that in mind."

She felt allayed at Maddie's slight titter, and with a simple breath, she finally said: "you're just like Danny… maybe that mistake needed to be made."

With that, she left the room, where Sam stood alone with the humming of the refrigerator unit and the sound of the furnace kicking on.

 _Yeah… maybe it did._

…

 **~J~**

 _DING!_

The door to the shop opened briskly to the humid, cool air and Josh stepped inside casually, looking left and right along the way. The shop changed quite a bit since the last time he was there––it was remodeled and cleaned up and the other employees were given much more room to migrate around the store as often as they wished. The walls were painted with a cloudy white color, more NRA propaganda was plastered all over the walls. What once was a wall filled with assault rifles and snipers was now filled with firearm accessories and kits. The semi-automatic weapons were moved to the east wall.

Another white wall.

Josh was beginning to hate the color in general.

Across the way, he saw his dad's great friend Marty standing behind the counter, in the middle of a transaction with two other gentlemen dressed in trucker attire. Without hesitation, he started over and, at the same time that he reached him, the two men left, leaving Josh face-to-face with an old friend.

"I'll be damned…" the older man pressed his fingers to his glasses and adjusted them closer to the top of his nose. "Josh? Joshua Williams, how are you, my friend!?"

"Marty," he responded with ease. "I'm good. I've been better, but I'm definitely good."

"Still trying to follow in your old man's footsteps, yeah?"

"I'd be stupid not to."

"Well… I hope that life is treating you well." He adjusts the collar of his button-up. "What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering what kind of sales you got going on right now. I'm in need of something compact, but brutal, and is easy to conceal and very reliable."

The old man's eyebrows raised. "Got trouble with someone?"

"I guess you could say that," Josh was elusive for good reason.

Marty had been practically like a father to him. He served over ten years in the Marine Corps alongside his father and has been a family friend since before Josh was even born. As much as Calvin would never admit it, he was always a bit jealous of Marty. Everyone loved him––he was the funny one. The wise one. The intelligent and loyal one. He was a kick in the head, sometimes, but an absolute riot mostly. Josh had seen him more as a father than his own.

When Josh moved away to college, things had gone south. Sam certainly wasn't the only one to leave her loved ones behind, but Josh was the only one who had the choice. After things got ugly between him and his wife, he began to grow distant from them. Suddenly, they were just faces stored away in the back of his mind.

Faces longing to have a name again.

And yet, there he was, standing before a man who'd never judged him.

A man who'd always loved him no matter what.

But there was no way that anyone was going to stand in his way.

Marty led him over to the case, his index finger sliding against it along the way. He dug into his right pocket, grabbing ahold of the keyring and picking out a tiny, silver key. After shimming it into the lock and turning it, he lifts the lid and takes out two handguns: one 9mm Glock 26 Generation D and one Springfield XDs .45 caliber.

"Now, if you're going to go for something that's a bit easier to stash, I'd choose the Glock, but the Springfield is got a bit more of a kick. It's about the same size, though."

Josh picks up the Glock, examining the engraved lettering and carefully crafted details. He got a feel of the weight, hand clutched tightly around the grip, and reached for the Springfield to do the same. He had to make a comparison; he had to figure out which one was fit best for him. It couldn't be too light or too heavy; he needed his accuracy to be especially perfect.

He wanted to make each shot count.

"Which one of these would you recommend?" He questions innocently.

Marty shrugs. "Well, it just depends on what you're looking for. Glocks are much more smooth; Springfields are pretty good at close range."

"Both 9mm?"

"Yes, sir."

Josh nods. "I see."

"You sure are serious about this."

Josh sets the Glock down and slides it over to Marty, who then puts it back in its respectful place. He gives the Springfield a wave, the barrel facing upward, and then sets it down on the glass before him.

"As serious as can be."

…

 **~T~**

He couldn't take it anymore.

The looped, light tapping of Sam's heels against the linoleum.

She had been restless ever since they pulled up in front of the Family Court. It wasn't just the inability to sit still: heavy breathing, excessive sweating, and shaking of the hands and fingers also accompanied her distressed state.

"Sam, will you just relax already?" Tucker murmured in an effort to calm her down, but she didn't listen.

"I can't help it." She shifted in her seat, going from leaning back to resting her elbows on her knees. Her hands had a vice grip on a manila folder, and she didn't appear to let up. "I don't like this––being in public. I don't like how out in the open we are."

"He doesn't even know that you're here."

"But I have a feeling that he almost does! What if he's looking for me right now, and I'm just… a sitting duck?"

"Sam, I told you––me and Danny have your back. If he wants to hurt you, he'll have to get through us."

He drew his dress sleeve up and examined the face of his watch, veering his eyes left and right as if to scan the migrating people around them. "She should be here any second."

"Who is this lady again?"

He glanced over, one eyebrow raised in confusion.

"Please just humor me… I need to be distracted."

He sighed. "Her name is Mary Wellington. She's a really good friend of mine––an attorney. She's going to help you get that protection order."

"Something doesn't feel right," Sam shook her head. "Aren't you supposed to get a restraining order in the county that you reside in? I don't live here anymore, remember?"

"Typically, yes, but… I told her that this was… an exigent circumstance."

"Isn't that technically lying?"

"Well… not really. We needed you out of the house––out of that town. She'll understand, Sam; he tried to kill you. Speaking of––" he turned his body towards her "––have you told Danny about that?"

She scoffed. "Are you kidding? I can't! Danny would have his head on a platter!"

"He should."

"Tucker––"

"He hurt you, Sam!" He sat back in his chair, eyes focused dead center as he returned to his former posture. "He has to pay for that." The sudden rapid footsteps of heels on a naked, hard floor began to ring out, and the two friends jerked their heads to the side.

A blonde-headed woman with a fawn complexion––wearing a maroon blouse, a black pencil skirt and ebony-colored closed-toe high heels––was making her way in their direction. Tucker gave Sam a few elbow nudges and they both rose to their feet, meeting her halfway. With a sly, almost seductive smile, her attention fell on the African-American man first.

"Tucker… it's very nice to see you again."

"You too, Mary."

She then turned to Sam. "And you must be the one in the limelight."

"Uh…" Sam uttered, obviously puzzled. "Yes?"

"Follow me, you two."

They were led across the way to an area made up of eight rooms, each one was a private office for county workers. They were taken to an oak door with a plaque reading: "Mary Wellington––District Attorney" smacked right in the upper center. She twisted the golden doorknob and stepped inside. Tucker could immediately smell the scent of peppermint before he even set a single extremity inside.

 _I guess Mary really likes peppermint._

"Have a seat."

And Tucker and Sam quickly obeyed. Mary took a seat in her black, leather cushioned office chair and slapped a few file folders on the wooden desk in front of her. Attempting to familiarize himself, Tucker observed his surroundings and discovered multiple things he had been previously acquainted with––a grandfather clock, pictures of family members and hand-crafted art pieces––and objects he would never consider putting in his office––an emblem piece written in Chinese, a monkey with cymbals and… a deer head?

 _She has a deer head in her office?_

Sam must have seen it, too; he could hear her gulp roughly.

 _I had no idea she was this… cultural?_

"So," she began, lacing her hands together and setting them on the desk. "I understand that you're in a pretty bad predicament."

"Yes," Sam nodded.

"Well, can you tell me what happened? The short version, even, as long as it's something."

The former Goth reached her hand up to the gauze on her arm, her fingers gliding softly over the material of it as her eyes averted to the ground. "How can I turn something so agonizingly long into something relatively short?"

"Easy: just give me the major details." She opened one of her drawers and took out a large notepad and a black ink pen, placing on top of the folders. She clicked it and set the tip down on the paper, waiting for Sam to begin.

"Ok… well… the first thing he ever did was slap me. Then, after he started drinking, they turned into shoves… and then punches… and then my head hitting against walls and breaking holes in them… blood on the tile of the kitchen… rape… choking me… throwing plates and empty beer bottles at me… he caused me to have a miscarriage."

"Oh, I'm sorry," her eyebrows furrowed.

"It's okay."

"If you don't mind me asking, how did he cause this miscarriage?"

"He slammed the bedroom door into me after pinning me against the wall and the doorknob ran into my stomach. The doctor said that the baby's death was instantaneous."

"How far along were you?"

"Six months."

"Can you tell me what he did after that?"

"He left me to bleed out for over an hour… and then he took me to the hospital."

"He drove while intoxicated?"

"Apparently, he was 'buzzed'."

"And you decided to get in a car with him in that condition?"

"You're asking me like I had a choice; it was either go with him or bleed out on the floor."

She continued marking characters down at a rapid speed in order to catch up with Sam's story.

"And you mentioned that your husband started drinking. How often would you say that he drinks if you could give me an estimate?"

"I don't have to estimate; I know for a fact that he drinks almost every day."

"Is he a diagnosed alcoholic?"

"Yes."

"Has he sought treatment?"

"On multiple occasions––his father paid for most of them."

"And what would he do after these treatments?"

"He'd just… go right back to square one."

"Has this happened every time?"

Sam's lips tightened. She nodded her head. "Mhm."

More writing.

"I noticed that you have gauze wrapped around your arm. Can you tell me what happened there?"

"The night before Danny and Tucker brought me into town, he sliced my arm open with a broken liquor bottle. My eye used to be swollen, too, from when he dropped it on the floor and a shard flew into my eye after it shattered."

More writing.

"Do you have any pictures, recordings or other documents that you can present to me that can be of any help to me?"

She bobbed her head, taking the manila folder out from under her arm and sliding it across the desk to Mary, who then grabbed it and opened it up. She turned it upside and let the documents slip out.

They were photographs, developed from Danny's phone. Some containing the marks on Sam's body; others containing the busted walls, broken household items, and damaged furniture. Mary shuffled through the photos and, with a sinking heart, put her fingers to her temples.

"Sam… I know that you've probably heard this question already, but just so I can mark this down… is there any point in time at all during any of these incidents that you decided to alert the authorities?"

Tucker turned and looked at Sam. Her body language and facial expressions spoke in ways that words couldn't––she was so incredibly uncomfortable. It's not like he could blame her; this is the first time that she's been able to tell her story in the years since its 'once upon a time'. He hated that he had to put her through it, but if there was any way for her to escape the life that she was in…

It was a sacrifice they had to make.

"No," was her only simple and straightforward response.

Mary nodded and scribbled some stuff down.

"So…" Tucker spoke up. "Can you help us?"

"Tucker… look, I could… really. I mean, this is grounds to arrest and try him, no doubt. The thing is is that––"

"It took place in another county."

"Trying to get a protection order here, I mean… it complicates things a bit."

"Aren't there exceptions?"

"Well, yes, but––"

"Then, this is one of them! You don't understand––Josh's family is powerful. His father is extremely wealthy. Everyone in that town knows who the Williams' are. Don't you think he can't just buy him out of the case? Maybe bribe a few officers to keep their mouths shut? I brought her back here because I know that that isn't how we roll in Amity Park. Here, we believe in justice. Real justice. And the further away from him she is, the better."

"I understand, but––"

"I'm the mayor. You don't think I don't know the laws? We allow protection orders to be filed under non-residents in emergency cases; this is an emergency case."

Mary was silent. She rotated her chair to and fro in small, repetitive swivels.

"Please, Mary? Sam is counting on this. Don't let this be for nothing."

He flashed a glance over to Sam, who had buried her head in her hands. He then reverted his gaze back to Mary, who was exchanging between her and Tucker.

Miraculously, Mary cleared her throat and commenced her well-memorized reading.

"Upon filling out and signing this protective order, you will receive a court hearing fourteen days after the fact––" Sam's face shot up, and the more that Mary talked, the wider the smile on her face spread. "––to bring evidence to the court, you are agreeing that the evidence has not been tampered or altered in any way and that it is, to the best of your knowledge, one-hundred percent authentic. You have the right to an attorney; if you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you. Please note that everything that you've told me today can possibly be used against you. Do you understand and agree to this?"

"Yes!" Sam rose to her feet. "Yes, I understand!"

Mary nodded. "I'll see you in fourteen days."

"Thank you," Sam cried out in happiness as tears began to slip down her face. She touched her hands palm to palm and placed her forehead comfortably on her thumbs. "Thank you so much."

Tucker gave Mary a faint smile.

A smile that showed gratefulness.

And Mary, a woman of few words, merely responded with pursed lips.

…

The silver Toyota Camry pulled out of the parking spot, heading towards the intersection's main road out of town. With one hand gripping the steering wheel and the other on the automatic shift handle, Tucker watched in the corner of his eye as Sam giggled and jeered and excitedly inspected the tall buildings surrounding them.

"Well, Sam… I think this calls for a celebration. Can we say Amy's?"

She immediately regarded him with a colossal grin filled with pearly white teeth. Amy's was a bar that Tucker's Aunt Amy owned that they had gone out to together one of the last times that they were together. It was one of their favorite places to go––one that they never really go to anymore.

But this was a special occasion.

Unbeknownst to them both, a small screen lit up in a pattern beneath the driver's seat. A cell phone rested stationarily on the floor.

…

 **~D~**

 _Six hours later_

Usually, Danny felt an incredible urge to collapse on the ground and sleep for days on end after leaving a shift. However, today was different. Something about today was special. He felt an unusual amount of pleasure as if a weight had been lifted off of him.

Perhaps today went well with Sam and Tucker's visit with the DA.

But there was one more matter that he had to attend to.

Now, there was no more beating around the bush.

It was now or never.

He put his blue Ford Escape into park and stepped out, flattening the wrinkles in his shirt before shutting the door and making his way up to the front door. It was astonishing what a mere few days could do to someone. It was a house that he lived in for only a couple of months, but now it was as if he never did. He felt a looming cloud of anticipation float over him, and his stomach began to stir. He knew that Sarah was not going to take this well. She'd probably throw something heavy or sharp at him; she'd probably try to kill him. Danny expected the worst, but it's not as if he couldn't understand why.

When he said in that letter that he wrote to Sam the morning of that he "had been thinking about it", he wasn't lying––after each moment he had with Sam, he found himself playing a mental game of Eenie Meenie. Each and every time, he picked Sam. It was a decision that should've felt wrong but instead felt so right. He had put it off long enough. He knew what he had to do.

He had to end this, once and for all.

He took his key and stuck it into the lock, turning it with ease and opening the door. Noticing that it was a bit darker than the house usually was, he stepped inside and shut it behind him.

"Sarah?" he called out. He heard something clatter in the distance, but nothing else that followed.

No voices.

No breathing.

"Sarah?"

No response.

 _Fuck me… it smells awful in here._

Getting worried, he went ghost and held his glowing green hand up, moving it around with his line of sight.

 _Why is it so dark in here? Why isn't she responding? I don't like this…_

He makes his way towards the living room when he suddenly tripped over something. Intrigued, he took a cautious step back and picked the object up.

It was an empty vodka bottle.

 _Has she been drinking? Sarah rarely ever drinks anymore… let alone a whole bottle._

"Sarah, answer me!" he cried out. His hand found one of the lamps and twisted the nozzle, the illumination flooding only a fraction of the expansive living room. He saw just a bit of brunette hair falling in waves along the edge of the couch, causing Danny to take a huge exhale and drop his hand to turn human again. He peeked over and saw Sarah passed out completely, a bucket of sick resting beside her.

That explains the smell.

He reaches down and gives her a little shake. "Sarah? Sarah, honey, wake up."

She stirs. It takes a good ten seconds more, but she finally opens her eyes. They are introduced in a very tranquilized and quiet state but transitioned to something ferocious as they found Danny's face. She darts up, standing from the couch and stumbling, nearly making the bucket her landing target. As gross as it was, Danny was more concerned about trying to concentrate on his fiancée's next move.

"What are you doing here?"

"Uh," his hands are raised in what translates as 'please don't kill me'. "I live here?"

"Wrong answer."

"Look, Sarah, I know that you're upset with me––"

"Upset? You skipped town with you ex-girlfriend! You've been sneaking around me; you haven't been telling me the truth when I asked for it! Well, now it's finally time to put everything out in the open."

"I completely agree! And that's exactly what I came here to do."

"Then tell me this," her hands balled up tightly. "Are you cheating on me?"

If it were asked of him only a week before, Danny would say 'no' with such confidence that even he would be sure of it; now, it was different.

"I…" he began. His shoulders slumped; Sarah's face was in complete shock. "Yeah, I guess I am."

"What did you do?" Her hazel eyes were mysterious and dark. "What did you do with her?"

"I'm… not entirely proud of it, but––"

"Not entirely?"

"Just listen… please. Yes, I did. I slept with her. But I just… I did it and… it felt right. It still feels right… like I never did anything wrong to begin with. Sarah, I mean… I love you. I do––I love you more than life itself. Believe me, I wish I had a valid reason for doing it. I wish I could say that I feel like you don't love me anymore… that you don't give me enough attention… but the truth is that I don't feel that way. At all. I just… I think what I feel for Sam is… much stronger, you know? I'm sure you understand––I mean you told me that you still think about your ex, even to this day. And I know that this is more than just thinking about it, but… imagine that… times like one hundred. It drives you crazy; I had to do something about it."

Sarah's stance began to slowly relax; Danny continued.

"And I know that I'm the worst person in the world right now to you, and I'm sorry, but I'm going to make it even worse." He took a step forward… slowly… carefully. "Sarah, I… I want to call off the engagement… if that's ok with you."

She gasps. "Danny, I––"

"I know… I know. But if I don't, then you have to be ok with sharing me with someone else… and I know that you're not. You'll never be." He takes her hands in his. "It has to be this way."

She was completely still and looked as if she were at a complete loss for words. He felt horrible for her. He knew that she loved him so much––that she'd do anything for him––and he just tore her whole world down completely.

"What's going on, Danny?"

He sighed. "Sam is being abused by her husband, and I just… I wanted to help her. I didn't even know that she lived next door until I saw her the other day. She looked awful, Sarah. I couldn't even recognize her. So, I decided to drive her back to our hometown so that Tucker and I could help get her out. I couldn't take her to her parent's house because he knows where they live––that's why it had to be my parent's." Sarah's eyes grew wide, and he felt her grip loosen. "It just happened, Sarah. Me and Sam, we didn't break up on a bad note and we just… we picked up where we left off. I tried to control myself for you, I really did… but it just happened and I'm sorry."

"Is this because of what I did?"

He pulled back, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Some guy came to the door and… you didn't tell me what was going on. I didn't know, I––!"

Danny was extremely bewildered at first, but as the realization slowly set in, his face morphed into complete terror. "Sarah… what did you do?"

"I'm sorry! I didn't know! I… I told him where you guys were."

"What was his name?"

Her orbs became glassy. Tears came down like rain falling on her face.

"Sarah, who was he!?"

She focused in on him. What she said next made Danny's stomach jerk.

Sweat gathered beneath his shirt.

His eyes flashed green.

"Josh… he said his name was Josh."

…

Danny slammed the door shut and practically flew down the porch steps, taking out his phone and quickly dialing Tucker's number. It rang continuously; Danny became more and more agitated.

 _Come on Tucker! Pick up the fucking phone!_

He flung his car door open and quickly got inside, shutting it and jamming his key into the ignition. His engine turned over.

A click erupted on the other end.

" _Hey, it's Tucker. If I didn't answer, then there's probably a good reason. Leave me a message. Peace."_

 _Beep._

"Tucker, it's me!" Danny shifted his gear into drive. "I just got back from Sarah's and she… she fucking spilled everything! _Don't_ take her back to my parent's house, you hear me!? Keep her as far away from there as possible! I'm on my way!"

He tossed his phone into the passenger seat.

He floored the accelerator pedal.

The tires hydroplaned as he zoomed away.

...

 **~S~**

 _Finally… it's over._

 _Everything is over._

 _Life is finally going to turn up for me._

 _I'm free._

Sam and Tucker decided to just have a drink or two and he would drop Sam off right after. She had never felt so happy to be alive. A week before, she was pulling at a rope connected to a cement block that was tied around her ankle; now, the rope had been severed. She could finally swim to the surface.

She could finally breathe.

She never thought she'd be able to see the day.

Sam was typically a woman who didn't believe in fate––there wasn't such thing as a "great design". Things happened because people made them happen for themselves.

She was starting to rethink that.

Now, she had proof. Anybody could've moved in next door.

Instead, it was Danny.

And Danny had led her to salvation.

As the car pulled up in front of the house, she felt as if she were returning as a completely different person. She had the same soul and the same body but was given a whole new life.

A chance to start again.

She saw Maddie, Jack and the rest of the crew exiting the house through the front door, and she tried with all of her might not to bust the car door open in excitement. She took a deep breath and stepped out, walking up to them. Maddie was the first to look up––Jazz, the second.

"How did everything go with the DA?"

"I've got a hearing! It's in fourteen days, and I even have the protection order in full effect."

"Sam, that's amazing!" Jazz exclaimed. "Congratulations! So, where have you guys been all night––out celebrating?"

"Yep," Tucker said. "We ended up going to Amy's. Don't worry––we only had a couple drinks."

"Tucker, you should join us out for dinner! It's one of the last ones before Jazz has to go home."

"Ah, actually, I should get home. Valerie is probably wondering where I've been… I'm sure she's tried calling me, but I can't find my cell phone."

"Maybe you left it at the house," Sam suggested.

"Yeah, maybe…"

"Well, Sam, are you sure you don't want to join? It would be awesome if you did."

"Yeah, I'm positive," Sam replied. "You guys go and have fun. Maybe you could bring me something back."

"Well, ok…" Maddie turned back to the rest of the group. "Come on, guys! We have reservations, and we're going to lose our seats!"

"We're coming!" Jack answered, Brian and Ava, following in tow behind him. They made their way to the dark green minivan parked in the driveway and Ava was the first to climb in, followed by Brian, and Jack in the driver's seat. Jazz joined her husband and child; Maddie bid farewell to the two friends.

"Bye, you guys. Sam, we'll be home soon; Tucker, don't be a stranger, ok?"

"Alright, Mom."

"Thanks, Mom. I'll see you soon."

She gave them a smile and left them, joining the group and sitting in the passenger side. As they backed out of the driveway and headed down the road, Sam turned to Tucker. She noticed by his stance that he was waiting for her to say something.

Sam went with her first inclination.

"Thank you so much… for everything… for all of your help."

"I appreciate it, but I wasn't looking for a thank you. Are you going to be ok?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

"Are you sure? Do you want me to stay with you until Danny gets here?"

"Tucker, really, you've done so much already. Danny will be here soon, and besides, I'm a big girl."

He chuckled. "Well, alright. But if there's anything that you need, you call me ASAP, ok?"

"With what phone?"

"Smartass," he joked as he gave her a firm, warming embrace. "Be safe. Everything is going to be ok now."

"Yeah… I'm finally starting to believe that."

He pulled away, going back to his vehicle and starting the engine. As he made eye contact with Sam, she flashed her hand at him as a quick wave goodbye. His lips curved as he pulled away, opposite the direction that Danny's parents went. She breathed and climbed up the porch steps to enter the house, failing to notice the familiar black Camaro parked just across the way on the other side of the street.

…

 **~J~**

Watching his wife enter the house of a man she was suspected of cheating on him with was the last thing he ever thought he'd have to do. Has it really come down to this? Could he really go through such a complex and irrational plan?

If it came down to it––if it were absolutely necessary… could he really kills his wife?

That was the day that the question finds the answer.

Once the door shut, he continued to stay put, scanning the roads left and right and all over to make sure that it really was as empty as it looked. He wished more than anything that he had a drink, but he knew that in order for this to be done right, he had to have a clear head.

 _I can do this._

 _She deserves it._

 _She cheated on me._

 _She has to pay for that._

 _I can do this._

 _I have to._

He waits for the opportunity. Ten minutes went by.

Then twenty.

Now was his chance.

He stepped out of the vehicle and made his way up the steps.

…

 **~S~**

Celebrating at a bar accompanied by a couple of shots and an old friend wasn't enough for her.

She needed to do something else.

Something to get her energy out.

She jumped up and down on the couch like a grungy teen.

She danced around, laughing hysterically along the way.

But once her adrenaline wore off, she found that she needed to do something else.

So, she went exploring.

She started with the basement, the room that brought the trio the closest together. Once she got to the bottom of the staircase, she eyed the sealed up ghost portal across the way. It seemed so unfamiliar now, and yet if she closed her eyes, she could see the faint silhouettes of her, Danny and Tucker just in front of it. It was hard to believe that it was so long ago when Danny's life changed, and it was the job of Sam and Tucker to take care of him.

Now, it was the other way around.

She walked over to the table that contained a bunch of ghost hunting equipment, old and new: the Specter Deflector, ecto-ray gun, ecto-dejecto, ecto-converter, Fenton Booo-merang, and so on. A few of them were left the way that they always were; the others had been modified. She picked up the Fenton Finder and investigated the device in her hands, turning it around to look at the back. Each new screw and metal plating made Sam gawk.

"Wow," she whispered. "Way to go, Dad. You went all out."

She set it down and selected another device to inspect. Once she was done, she returned upstairs to go to the top level and turned right into Danny's room. She wasn't really sure why she picked the destination that she did. She's been in Danny's room hundreds of times.

But it was as if she were drawn there.

As if there was more to see.

More than she has yet to find.

She checked every area that she could think to: in the closet, on top of the dresser and in drawers. But she decided to try the most clichéd place to find any sacred object…

Underneath the bed.

And upon doing so, she stumbled upon an oak box––handcrafted and engraved with the initials DJF. It was foreign. Sam had never seen it before.

She knew Danny like the back of her hand. Shouldn't she have?

She was just about to open the box when she heard a loud noise coming from the lower level.

 _BANG!_

She recognized it. It was the sound of a door being kicked in.

She gasped and quickly pushed the box back under the bed, scrambling to her feet and turning to face Danny's bedroom door. She understood why people made stupid mistakes in horror movies; she had almost called out to see who was there.

Instead, with ragged breathing and shaky hands, she quietly snuck into the hallway. Her heart pounded in her ears. The hair on the back of her neck rose. She pushed all of her weight on the balls of her feet, and she slowly but surely made her way down, she moved just enough to peer around the corner.

And as soon as she did, she wished that she hadn't.

There, walking out of the kitchen doorway, was her husband wielding what looked like a gun in his right hand.

Her eyes glossed over as she flattened her back against the wall again.

 _Oh, shit… he found me! He found me! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, think Sam, think! Do something!_

"Samantha," she heard him call out creepily in a sing-song manner. His combat boot footsteps echoing throughout the residence. "Come out, come out, wherever you are."

She rushed into the bathroom, careful not to make a sound, and gently closed the door. She needed to find a weapon––something that she could use to defend herself. She checked the medicine cabinet and one by one took out things that were deemed worthless until she eventually found a nail file.

 _It's not particularly a knife… but it'll do._

Gripping so hard that her knuckles turned white, she slowly opened up the door and listened for any inconspicuous noise.

She identified one: the sound of heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. By the sound of it, he still had a little way before he reached the top.

 _I need a place to hide, fast! Come on, come on… where!? Where do I go!?_

Thinking fast on her feet, she moved from the bathroom to Jazz's room and snatched one of the blankets off of her bed, opening her closet doors and shimming inside. Sealing herself off from the outside, she buried herself deeper into the corner and threw the blanket on top of her.

She used to be made fun of constantly for how small she was.

Then, more than she ever was, she was thankful for it.

"Sam, sweetheart, you mind as well give up." She heard what sounded like iron scraping along the walls. "I'm going to find you. I always do."

Bringing the nail file closer towards her chest, she used all of her strength not to bust out in heavy sobs. If she was going to live, she had to maintain her composure.

 _This is crazy. Josh wouldn't actually kill me… would he?_

She used to be confident in saying no, but the altercation that she had with him the night she got cut told her otherwise: Josh was always dangerous.

All that was left was for him to be armed.

She was hoping against all hope that Josh wouldn't be as oblivious as he always was and mistaken her concealed body for covered up shoes or clothes. He was smart, but never thorough.

Sam just had to keep herself one step ahead of him.

"You know, Samantha… this could've all been avoided if you had just done what I told you to do. We could've moved on and forgotten that any of this happened. But instead, you left me for him… you cheated on me… and now you're going to face the consequences."

She heard him moving about Danny's room.

"I've always been a good husband to you. I've done everything I could to look after you. You repaid me by sleeping around and leaving me in the dust."

Something crashed to the floor.

Her blinking doubled.

She began to pant, which caused her to close her hand over her mouth.

"Tell me what I did to deserve that, Sam. I've always taken care of you."

A door slams; footsteps lingered throughout the halls into the bathroom––right next door.

"This will be much easier and will end much faster if you just come out now and face me."

The shower hooks squealed against the metal rod.

 _Fuck this… I've gotta get out of here._

She took the opportunity to move while he was distracted. The risk was high, but it was better than waiting for him to find her. She flung the blanket off of her body and crawled out of the corner, opening the closet door and dashing out.

She didn't hesitate.

She didn't stop to turn around.

She didn't dare to look back.

She just ran as fast as she could––as fast as her legs would take her––to make a break for the front door.

"Hey!" She heard her husband call from behind her.

But she kept going.

He was right behind her, getting closer and closer by the second. Sam was always a great runner. In high school, she had been the top of her class out of both the boys and the girls. She scored high on the presidential fitness exam. She was faster than a hare being chased by a wolf.

But she knew that not long after she reached the middle of the staircase that that wouldn't be nearly enough.

 _Fuck, he is fast as_ _ **shit!**_

Josh was gaining on her.

She felt him come insanely close to grabbing her arm.

And just as she was about to reach the front door––just as she was about to escape into the outside world––that's exactly what he succeeded in doing.

He took almost a bear trap grip on her arm and yanked her back, making her practically topple to the floor and land hard on her back. She yelped, the nail file being knocked out of her hand and sliding across the living room. She leaned up on her elbows, using what was left of her strength to crawl backward away from him.

She didn't care that her head was throbbing in pain.

She didn't care that her back was bruised up.

She fought with every fiber of her being to put as much distance between the both of them as possible.

"Josh," she begged completely out of breath. "Please… don't––"

"I wouldn't have, Sam," he secured the door with a click and a lock without looking away, "but you left me no choice. You're all mine now."

He took wide, heavy steps towards her until he ended up towering her.

His shadow covered her body.

His eyes burned into her soul.

He crouched down and, with the most mischievous smile she'd ever seen, he spoke darkly.

"And this time… it's going to stay that way."

…

 **~T~**

His breaks squeaked faintly as he rolled up to the stoplight. He let go of the steering wheel and let his head fall back, resting softly on the head of the seat. The night was just settling in, which was Tucker's favorite time of day. Many would disagree, but he thought that Amity Park was beautiful at night. The city lights lit up the street, making it look almost like a carnival. It truly gave the city life.

And in a city occupied with both the dead and the living, it was a very nice touch.

He had almost been so absorbed by the fluorescents that he didn't hear the persistent vibrating sound. His eyebrow raised as he moved his arm back behind him, feeling around the floor until his hand came into contact with a small cellular device. He brought it forward and sit back in his seat.

 _My cell phone! Damn, where have you been all day… what's this?_

Ten missed calls.

Sixteen text messages.

A new voicemail.

His eyes traveled back up at the stoplight then boomeranged back at the screen. He unlocked his phone and hit 'messages', his eyes rummaging through the letters.

" _Tucker, answer the phone…! Seriously Tuck pick up… SOS… I'm on my way."_

 _What the hell is going on?_

He pressed the voicemail button and brought the speaker up to his ear.

" _You have one new voice message. BEEP. "Tucker, it's me! I just got back from Sarah's and she… she fucking spilled everything!_ " Tucker's brows knitted. His eyes searched the road before him. " _ **Don't**_ _take her back to my parent's house, you hear me!? Keep her as far away from there as possible! I'm on my way!"_

He felt a shiver run down his spine.

His face fell.

His eyes widened.

 _Oh, shit… Sam… SAM!_

The light just barely turned green.

He cut the steering wheel hard to the left and pressed the pedal to the floor, tires screeching as he made a one-eighty and flew down the street in the opposite direction. As dangerous as it was, he dialed on his keypad as he cut around the cars before him. He held his phone to his ear.

The line rang.

And rang.

And finally, it connected.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"I need the police; there's been a break in!"

…

~S~

"Listen to me, Josh," she panted. Her body still in a panicked state. He was only a mere four inches from her face. "I know that you're mad… and you're pissed off… you have every right to be." Her gaze fell on the pistol that he held stiffly in his hand. "But you can't serious about killing me, can you?"

"I'm more than serious… but it's not going to happen right away. I'm going to have a bit of fun first." He stared at her body in pure lust and hunger.

But Sam wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.

"No!" She shouted. "No. If you're going to kill me, then just fucking do it! Get it over with! Do it right now, because I'm so fucking tired of running! That's all I've ever done was run… and I'm so tired of it. So, just finish me off… you'd be doing me a favor."

Before he had the chance to respond, they both heard the sound of tires screeching to halt just outside the house and a door open and close with haste.

"I guess it doesn't matter anyway," she spoke flatly. "You're out of time."

The doorknob jiggled.

A banging erupted from the other side.

"Sam?" Danny's voice called from the other end. "Sam, it's me open up!"

Sam gave Josh a sarcastic smile; Josh glared towards the door. She went to open her mouth to scream, but he quickly covered it and stuck the gun in the hem of his pants behind him, using his other hand to snatch Sam up to her feet. He wrapped behind her and took his gun back out, placing the barrel to Sam's temple.

"Sam!" He called again. "Are you ok!? Please, answer me!"

They watched as a light flashed through the windows of the house and Danny emerged from thin air on the other side of the door, becoming solid again.

"Oh, shit, Sam––!" He took a step forward and reached a handout, but Josh stiffened his hand.

"Not so fast, asshole," Josh growled, letting his hand fall from Sam's mouth.

She breathed, her eyes lighting up. "Danny…"

"Sam…" his eyes averted between his and Sam's. "Are you alright… did he hurt you?"

"Only… only a little bit."

"Let her go."

"Why? So you and he can just run off together and live happily ever after? No… not a chance."

"Do you know what's going to happen to you if you do this? Do you know how many charges you have on your head already and you haven't even been arrested yet: breaking and entering, vandalism, aggravated assault with a deadly weapon, rape, attempted murder… you're looking at some pretty serious jail time."

"Why do you care?"

"Because nobody has to die, Josh." Danny held his hands outward. "You still have a chance not to fuck up your life; you still have a chance to let Sam go unharmed. That's why I care."

 _What is he doing? Is he stalling? Did he call the police?_

"You don't want it to end like this," he continued.

He took a step forward.

Josh took a step back.

"I said stay back."

"You wouldn't do it, Josh."

"How would you know? You have no idea what I'm capable of."

"Everyone is capable of anything… I'm capable of killing you; you're capable of killing Sam… but that doesn't mean that it has to end like that. No one has to die. Not even you."

"You're really pushing my patience."

"You don't want to make this mistake, Josh. It can live with you forever. Is that really what you want?"

"Shut up."

"Let her go. Let her go and leave her alone."

"I said shut up, damn you!"

"If you want to fight someone, then fight someone who can take you on. Fight me."

"Fuck you!" He throws Sam to the ground and flings the gun.

In a split second, Danny changes into his human form and lunges forward, gripping Josh by the collar of his shirt. He turns his back towards the wall and rams him up against it, punching him twice before Josh catches his fist going in on the third time and he kicks Danny to the ground. He brings his leg up over Danny's head, throwing his foot down towards it with great force. Danny barrel rolls and grabs his ankle, but Josh retaliates by knocking him off with the back of his hand.

Sam watches in horror as Josh immediately looks at his gun lying only a couple of yards away on the ground. Before he has the chance to grab it, Sam crawls towards it and tries to herself. Her fingers just barely graze it before he reaches it and kicks it away from her.

She follows his leg up his body until her eyes meet his. He was grinning like a maniac.

A psychotic maniac.

"Nice try, sweetheart."

Danny grabbed him by the back of the neck and flung him behind him, hearing him crash against the wall. He helped Sam to her feet.

"Sam, run."

"What?"

"You need to leave. He's not going to stop."

"I'm not leaving you alone with him!"

"I can take him, Sam!" He turns his back to her, getting into a protective stance. "Go!"

Sam walks back towards the front door, watching as the two men duke it out. She was torn in half––leaving him alone would have risked Danny getting killed. There was no way the police would make it in time; it would be too late to stop Josh.

But if she didn't leave, she was keeping herself in his clutch. She had fought too hard to get away from him just to throw herself back into his vice grip. She had an out.

If she took it, Danny would die; if she didn't, she would die.

The selfish, rebellious Sam she used to know would've saved herself––just as she had always tried to in every sticky situation.

But she'd changed a lot since then.

And if there was one thing that she knew now more than ever, it was that risks had to be taken… even if that meant sacrificing yourself.

Danny was the one to teach her that.

Josh latched onto Danny's throat and slammed him to the ground, placing his knee on his chest.

Danny was trapped.

Josh had him wrapped around his finger.

 _Danny!_ She eyed the gun on the ground and the nail file a little way away. _I've got to help him!_

Sam could use the gun, but she had no idea how to fire that thing. The closest thing to a firearm that she'd ever shot was an ecto-blaster, but that was to hunt ghosts.

This was to kill a human being.

When it came down to it, could she really do that to Josh, if she were doing it to save Danny?

Regardless, she didn't want to kill him. She didn't want to shoot him.

She just wanted to wound him.

She decided against it and dashed towards the nail file, snatching it up and jumping onto Josh's back. She stabbed his neck repeatedly, making Josh cry out loudly in pain.

"You motherfucker!" She screamed in anger. "I hate you! _I fucking hate you!_ "

He rose to his feet and ran his back into the wall, crushing Sam in between. She dropped to the floor. He took ahold of the nail file that she had left sticking out in his neck and yanked it out, throwing it off to the other side of the room.

And then, they all heard it.

Police sirens.

Red and blue lights flashing just outside the building.

 _They made it… they fucking made it!_

"You're done, Josh," she breathed erratically. "It's over. Give up."

"No…" he started.

Three squad cars pulled up, one just in front of the house.

He turned to Sam, who was expecting him to try to strangle her. Instead, she saw hurt in his eyes.

As if she had chopped off a limb and left him in front of a pack of coyotes.

Betrayal.

Genuine betrayal.

Her eyebrows pressed together.

"You called the cops on me?" Josh whispered. "You… you ratted me out?"

She shook her head. "No… but someone did."

"I was going to take you home. All I wanted was to take you home. I never wanted you to get hurt… but I did what I had to do… for us."

He heard car doors opening.

The sound of a police radio was blaring just outside of the door.

He quickly ran to his gun and grabbed it. Danny moved to Sam and got back up on his two feet before assisting Sam to do the same. He stood in front of her, arms back to keep her behind him.

"What are you doing?" she muttered.

His head turned towards the right as he spoke just over his shoulder. "He's not going to hurt you, Sam. Not anymore. He'll have to shoot me instead."

"Freeze!" They all heard in unison as their heads darted towards the door.

Three police officers were standing, guns aimed at Josh who had been holding his close to his side.

"Drop the gun!"

"Drop it!"

His gaze left there's to return to Sam's, who gave him a cold stare.

"Sam… I've always loved you."

"No, Josh… you didn't. The people that you love don't try to hurt you. They don't try to kill you. They don't destroy you, manipulate you and make you afraid to live in your own home. They don't shut you out from the outside world. They don't isolate you from friends or family for their own benefit… I loved you, Josh. And I kept hoping that one day you would change… but you just got worse. And now look where we are. Look at what you've done. You caused this."

"I did all of this for us."

"You haven't done anything for me in years. You've only done things for yourself."

"Drop the fucking gun! Don't move, and drop the fucking gun! Now!"

"You don't love me anymore?"

It was the most difficult thing she had ever heard––something she never thought would ever leave Josh's mouth. In a glimpse, she saw everything flash before her eyes: the day that they met on campus, their first date, their second date, the night of, their wedding night, the day they graduated, the day they moved in together, the day the visited Sam's family.

The better days that became nothing but yearnings and prayers.

Then she saw herself now: damaged and confused. The image of her battered reflection was etched like a tattoo into her mind. Her swollen eye. Her cut on her arm. The blood on the bedroom floor. The blood on the kitchen tile. The holes in the walls. The tight fist heading straight for her face. The repetitive nights of being raped, over and over again.

Her miscarriage.

Delivering her dead child, only to have it taken away from her.

It made her want to throw up.

She wanted to tell him that she did.

For the longest time, she believed that she did, even after everything he'd done to her.

But now…

Now, she couldn't even look him in the eye without wanting to spit in his face.

So, she told the truth.

What she had been dying to tell him since he slapped her in the face for the first time.

"No."

Just like that, it was as if Josh had seen everything that she had.

Everything that he's ever done to her.

And he reacted by doing something that Sam hadn't seen him do in a long time: he cried.

And cried.

And cried.

Until he had full on wept.

"I'm sorry…" he apologized ever so softly. He repeated it over and over. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…" He looked down at the gun and straightened it in his hand. "I'm sorry, Sam…"

Then, he slowly put the barrel to his forehead.

Sam's eyes widened. The police officers tried to talk him out of it. Danny froze in place.

" _Josh, no!"_ Sam cried out. The police became more aggressive.

"Drop the gun, Mr. Williams!"

"Drop it!"

"Now!"

So much background noise.

So much yelling of strained voices from aching throats…

But none of it was heard by Sam.

Her husband––the one she promised 'til death do they part––was going to die. But she had failed to realize that Josh has been dead for a long time.

Only now, everything was much clearer.

"Josh! Josh… please!" She begged, desperately trying to stop him. Tears came in non stop streaks down her face. Her head whipped towards the cops, holding an almost anchored hand palm out towards them. "Officers, stop! Don't shoot him!" She directed her attention back to her husband. Her voice cracked. "Josh… everything is ok… just listen to me, alright? Listen to my voice."

Josh's eyes landed on hers. He looked as scared as she's been since the abuse started.

He finally recognized the person that he'd become.

And he was even terrified of himself.

He shook his head subtly as if his body were operating completely on autopilot.

It was more apparent then than it had ever been that Josh no longer had control of himself, if he had any to begin with.

Impulsivity was what fueled him.

"Josh, focus! Don't do this… we can fix this. Ok? Just put the gun down."

His expression was a blank slate.

His eyes dull and lifeless.

"I love you."

Without a second thought, he pulled the trigger.

"NO!" Sam evaded her eyes just in time to catch a burst of light and the splash of red in her peripheral vision. She turned straight into Danny's chest, who had been shell-shocked and speechless. " _Oh my, God!"_

"Fuck me!" One of the officers blurted out.

She heard a heavy thud, the sound of one of the officers retching...

Then, nothing but police scanners.

"Just… Jesus H. Christ."

Footsteps faded out.

She shook in a nerve-wracking sob.

"Officer Harvey at 223 Wesley Avenue. The suspect is a 10-56, over." Sam could hear him gulp. "For fuck's sake."

She inhaled sharply. She blinked rapidly, but could hardly tell the difference as Danny's shirt clouded her entire vision. "Oh, my God! Danny, please tell me he's not dead!" Her body cycled between crippling jolts to the stiffness of a statue. "Please tell me he's not dead!"

" _Fuckin' hell..._ " was all she heard him say. His voice quivered. "Sam, just… just don't look, ok?"

She tried with all of her might to obey him, but curiosity completely consumed her. She had to see it for herself. She had to know for a fact that it was true.

So, without thinking, she turned back.

"No! Sam, no!" Danny took her head by the sides and attempted to pull it back towards him, but it was too late.

Josh lied on the floor, gun still gripped in his right hand. Blood was splattered all over the wooden coffee table just behind him. A puddle of blood was forming underneath his head, and brain matter had decorated a fraction of each wall he was closest to. The hole in his head was leaking like a spitting fountain.

And Sam couldn't hold it in.

She heaved and then keeled over, throwing up just in front of her. She felt Danny place a hand on her back, the other moving her hair out of her face as she spat up what was left of her upchuck. "I'm so s––" she stumbled, struggling to get a coherent sentence out. "Oh, my God… _oh, my God…"_ Her legs gave out completely and she headed straight for the ground, but Danny caught her, taking her into his arms and walking her out of the house.

Away from the body of her dead husband.

Away from the noises from the police scanners.

Away from yet another nightmare that would shake her at her core.

…

 **To be fair… I warned you guys.**


	7. Revelation

**Now that you've all had some time to recover from the previous chapter, here's the next one for you. I tried to go through and correct grammar, italics, bolds, etc. but y'all know how FF works. It's lame.**

…

 **~D~**

In the sea of blue and red, backed with the sound of various police radios crackling inexplicably, Danny could still make out the features of his distraught lover sitting just ten feet away in the back of an open ambulance, frozen in complete shock. Her pale, skinny fingers firmly clutching the navy blue cotton blanket wrapped loosely around her torso, her eyes were glued to the asphalt below as an officer stood before her, trying to get her attention.

She was unmoving and unresponsive.

And understandably so. Danny couldn't even begin to imagine what was going through her head.

 _I can't believe it… I just can't fucking believe it._

 _Josh just… just shot himself. Right there in front of us…_

He played the event back in his head like a film on a never ending loop, adjusting the speed of the events. He lapsed the time… slowed it down…

...but no matter the scenario, no matter the effort, he couldn't see himself saving him.

He hated to admit it, but he felt really bad for him. There must have been a lot of equally messed up, traumatizing stuff going through his mind as it were Sam's. He didn't know what it felt like to succumb to an addiction, but he did know what it was like to lose himself.

He knew what it was like to fight a darker, much more violent part of him… and lose.

It didn't mean that he condoned what he had done––how badly he had hurt Sam.

But there was huge difference between that, and hurting himself.

In the end, she was safe. That was all that Danny cared about.

As sad as it was, Josh wasn't his concern.

Just off to his left, he could hear another car speed up to an abrupt stop and a door open and shut with such haste that the break in the air nipped at the back of his neck. Rushed footsteps gained his full, undivided attention, and he saw his best friend approaching him quickly. He stepped off of his car and faced him.

Tucker slowed down, reading the look on his face. In response, Danny shook his head.

"She's not hurt too bad… she's alright."

He sighed in relief. "Where is she?"

Danny nudged his head towards the ambulance. "Over there."

Just before the man commenced a takeoff towards her, Danny suddenly took ahold of his forearm. He turned back towards him. Danny's face was grim, but nonetheless he gestured a little way behind him and the two men took a few steps past Danny's car.

"It's, uh…" Danny began, crossing his arms and looking down at the ground. His feet shuffled in anxiety. "It's Josh."

Tucker's eyebrows knitted. "What about him?"

"He, uh…" he cleared his throat, sniffing roughly. "He's dead."

His best friend's jaw dropped. "What?"

"He shot himself, Tuck… right fucking in front of her. Guy just turned the gun on himself… and Sam tried to talk him out of it… she really did, but it all went downhill and…" he winced. "It's a fucking massacre in there."

"Oh, God… tell me she didn't see anything––"

"She did." He tightened his arms. "I tried to keep her from looking, but… I couldn't stop her."

"Jesus Christ… is she ok?"

He tsked. "What do you think, Tucker? Would you be ok if it were Val?"

"Please don't put that image in my head."

"I'm just saying… she hasn't said one word since I took her out of the house. We got separated and I couldn't get the chance to really try to talk to her and… I'm afraid that the police can't get through to her."

"Well… now is your chance." He motioned towards the ambulance, and Danny looked to see that Sam was left alone.

"Are you sure you don't want to try to go talk to her?"

"We're close, Danny, but not nearly as close as the two of you. If anyone could get her to speak up… it's you."

His eyes exchanged a look between the two, and before he could give himself a second more to hesitate, he had already found himself treading ever so cautiously to his devastated partner. As he approached her, she eyed him with glistening amethyst orbs. Her internal self appeared to be screaming for help.

After everything that she'd been through that night, Danny wouldn't have been surprised if she had to undergo frequent visits to a psychologist.

 **~S~**

"Sammie," he spoke carefully. "Are you alright?"

It seemed like a rhetorical question, but it was one that even Sam didn't know the answer to. Of all the scenarios she could've ever thought of, this was the very last one.

Her husband of almost a decade—the man she had promised 'til death do they part—-had officially upheld their vow.

Josh was dead.

He was dead and there was nothing that she could've done to change that.

A part of her knew that it wasn't her fault, but the other, much guilt-stricken side of her felt that it was. If only she hadn't have run…

If only she'd just stayed…

Maybe he'd still be alive.

He'd be the same greedy, selfish asshole… but he'd still be alive.

But the man before her—he was the one who actually cared. The man she belonged with.

The man who had loved her since day one.

As he stood before her, Sam knew that even though she had been torn down, broken, lost and afraid to go on…

It was now time for her to rise up, fix herself, find her way and despite her fearfulness…

Recover.

But for now, she sat in silence. Her lips quivered, parting and sticking together again as she attempted to form a coherent sentence––as she tried to make a sound in general.

"Sammie…" he took ahold of her hands, misted with the blood of her dead husband. "Talk to me… I'm here for you, but you have to talk to me––"

"He's dead," she whispered chokingly. She hung her head. Her breath hitched. "I didn't do enough to stop him… and he's dead."

"Sam, it wasn't your fault…" he took a seat just beside her, setting his arm around her shoulder. "It wasn't. You did everything that you could."

"My feelings don't make any sense… I should be happy––happy that he can't hurt me anymore. I should be happy that I don't have to constantly look over my shoulder… so why do I feel so… so––?"

"Empty?" He finished for her.

She shrugged, her arms coming up to cross over her breasts. "It just doesn't make any sense."

"Sam," he scooted closer towards her, "our feelings aren't supposed to make any sense. Why do you think they take place in a different part of our brain—apart from logic and reason? It's ok to feel both relieved and hysterical."

"Is that how you felt when you stepped out of the ghost portal?"

"Well, yeah, of course. If you'd suddenly became half ghost, you'd shit yourself too."

Sam leaned forward, her elbows resting comfortably on her knees before she stumbled and lost her balance. Danny quickly reached out and caught her, and her hands practically clawed at his forearms. His biceps flexed as he slowly lifted her back towards him, and she turned to bury her face in his broad chest.

"Thanks," she muttered.

"Like you said—I always catch you when you fall."

"Now is not the time to be cheesy."

"It's always the time for me."

Her eyes shut tightly. She could feel his body sulk.

"You're right… sorry."

"I just… can't get the image of his… his _brains_ all over the floor… and the blood… fuck, I didn't know we had _that_ much in our bodies."

"Sam," his hand came up to cradle her head, her soft strands of raven locks seeping between his fingers. He shushed her. "Just don't think about it, ok?"

"How can I not?"

He didn't respond.

Various distinguishing sounds could be heard throughout the environment. Police radios. Cars driving by on the roads adjacent to them. Neighbors chattering amongst themselves reclusively, wondering what had happened and if they should be concerned.

Sam just wanted to get away from it all.

"Do your parents know?" she asked. "About Josh, I mean."

"Yeah, they do."

"Please tell me that they're not bringing Ava here."

"Uh, no," he said. "They booked a room at a nearby hotel until… they can, you know… clean everything up."

"Oh…" Sam replied lowly.

"Did you say anything to the police?"

"No…" she sighed. "I couldn't bring myself to speak… I can't even bring myself to think this is real. I just… I keep thinking that I'm going to wake up and I'll be back at home… back to square one… back to my old life."

"Do you want to be?"

She brings her face out of hiding to look at him. Her lips curved stiffly as her eyelashes faintly touched the base of her eyelids. Danny always did say that he loved her eyes; he always said that they were beautiful.

"Yes… if it meant that none of this would happen."

"Is that all that you care about?" He asked in a slightly offended tone. "Josh being alive? After everything that he's done to you? You can't be serious, Sam—"

" _He's my husband,_ Danny. How do you expect me to feel?"

"I don't know—relieved? You don't have to get beat on anymore, Sam. You don't have to go through any of that ever again. Doesn't it bother you, even a little bit, knowing that he took everything from you and you still love him?"

"Of course it bothers me! You think I want to feel like that? You think I don't know how dumb I am for still being in love with him? _I know!_ But I can't help what I feel! I want to hate him and yes, on some level I do… but I can't just forget about all of the good times we had… all of the moments that we shared… I can't pretend like they didn't happen… it was the only thing that made me hold on for so long."

"Sam… he was never going to change."

"Yeah, well, that's not what I thought. You know, you hear these stories all the time—these domestic violence stories—and you think 'why don't they just leave?'. Now I understand what they mean when they say that they can't… but ignorance is bliss, I guess."

"You mean you couldn't… or you _couldn't?"_

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean could you really not leave… or did you just tell yourself you couldn't? Maybe it was all in your head… maybe your mind was tricking you into thinking that you had to stay. The Sam that I used to know would've put a combat boot up the guy's ass."

"Well, the Sam that you knew is gone," the reflection of the moonlight bounced off of her eyes. "Sorry to disappoint."

"You know that's not what I mean––"

"Then what _do_ you mean, Danny?"

"I mean that there's no way that you thought staying with him would've been better! A part of you had to have wanted out! A part of you had to have felt that your life was in legitimate danger! I _know_ you. The fact that you stayed for high hopes… it's awful, Sam!"

"What do you want me to say, Danny!?" She held her hands up in exasperation. "You want me to lie? You want me to say that I wanted to kill the guy? I could've never brought myself to!"

"He was a piece of fucking shit, Sam!"

"You didn't even _know_ him."

"I knew enough."

"No… you didn't! You have no idea what he's done for me… how high he swept me off of my feet after we broke up. He was _there_ for me, Danny! Sure, maybe it was just him saying all the right things… but if you had been at my wedding… you wouldn't have felt the way that you do now. I knew that that part of him was still in there… I knew that he was just buried deep inside… but his addiction completely consumed him and he just… he didn't know how to break free."

"Sam, you don't understand––"

"No, _you_ don't understand." Her words spat out like venom from a snake. "This isn't a case of fucking Stockholm, Danny. It was _more_ than just that… but if I would've left… it would've ended much worse than this. Who knows…" Her eyes traveled up to the stretcher, a laid out black plastic bag on top of it. "Maybe it would've been me in that body bag."

"Don't say that, Sam––"

"Why not? It's true. It's true," she leans in, her forehead wrinkled in irritation, "and you fucking know it."

She turns her head toward the house, bits and pieces of her wedding day flashing in intervals right before her eyes. Thinking about it made the muscles in her cheeks hurt.

She remembered how much she smiled that day.

With that, Danny remained speechless. She realized that what she had said had probably made him feel guilty. A cement block of complete remorse had latched itself around her ankle.

She could feel herself sinking.

"I'm sorry," she apologized.

"Why are you sorry?" He asked. "Because you're being veracious? Sometimes people need to hear it… no matter how much it hurts."

"Yeah… seems like honesty has been paying me frequent visits for the past ten years." She looked up at the dark sky, admiring the stars that twinkled so brightly. "I guess I just didn't want to let it in."

"No matter what you or anyone else thinks… or says… or feels…" Danny took her hand, lacing his fingers with hers, "you're much stronger now than you've ever been."

She gave him a faint smile.

"I wish I could think of it that way."

"And, you know, you really should give your statement to the police."

"What should I say?"

"Anything, Sam. Answer all of their questions respectfully. It's not like they're going to arrest us; they obviously saw everything go down."

She nodded, rolling her shoulders back as she sat upright. She used the momentum initiated from her legs and abdominal muscles to swing herself off of the ambulance and onto her feet. Across the way, she saw Tucker standing idly by Danny's car, and she gave him a relieving smile. He rushed towards her and she met him halfway, bringing him in for a warm and comforting hug.

"Sam…" he began, giving her a small squeeze. "I'm so glad that you're ok."

She nodded. "Me too."

As she pulled back, she examined what appeared to be a fretted look upon his face.

And she decided to investigate it.

"What's with the face?"

"Danny left me a message shortly before I dropped you off. He told me not to… and I missed it. If I were paying attention, I wouldn't have––"

"Don't blame yourself, Tuck. It's ok. Really."

"Are you… feeling alright?"

"Besides watching my husband slaughter himself in a crying rage, I guess I am."

"I'm sorry––that was stupid question."

"No, it's fine… I guess I came off kind of… morbid."

"Did you talk to the cop?"

"No… but I'm about to. He's been trying to get me to speak since everything went down and I haven't been able to. But thanks to you guys… I just want to get it done and over with."

"Do you want us to go with you?" Danny steps in, bracing his hand on her upper back. With both men standing on either side of her, she felt more secure than a baby with a blanket.

"Yeah. For…" Tucker offered, "moral support?"

She sighed. "It would definitely alleviate some stress."

And with that, Sam and the two six foot men lead her to the uniformed man standing a mere fifteen feet away.

Despite the tightening in her chest…

Despite the shaking in her knees…

Despite the stirring in her stomach…

Sam took a deep breath and calmly approached the police officer.

"Officer… I'm ready to give my statement."

…

 _One week later_

Sam always hated funerals, despite her inner Goth telling her to embrace the dark and depressing. It was always so awkward for her to stand in the midst of a mourning crowd, even if it were for someone that she loved. She had a hard time crying at her grandmother's funeral for this reason.

But this time…

This time it was different.

She didn't know if it were caused by the daggers shot at her from Calvin and his wife, Meriam, or that her and Josh had been through so much together––good and bad.

But she couldn't control the faucets in her eyes, no matter how hard she tried.

There was so much on her mind. In a matter of a few weeks, she had been abused, reunited with an old affair, ran away from a broken home, felt an immense amount of burning love and suffered a broken heart all over again.

It was so much to take in… so much to digest.

And as she stood before the closed casket of her deceased husband, the thought rested idly in the back of her mind. Danny and Tucker on either side of her, they knew that something else was off about her since before the funeral even came around. Upon asking her, they received nothing short of evasive responses.

Avoiding a question was completely out of the ordinary with her.

Though lately, Sam was making a habit out of it.

Just off to the right, she caught Calvin and Meriam heading her way. Immediately, her body straightened out and he stopped just before, eyes focused as if she were a mere few seconds away from whipping out a knife and stabbing him in the gut. Meriam, however, had the eyes of a sympathetic caretaker. She gave her a comforting and apologetic smile, reeling her in for a constricting, earthy hug.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. Sam felt a wet teardrop land on her right shoulder. "I know you must be feeling awful… but it wasn't your fault, dear. Ok?"

"Thank you," Sam spoke quietly.

She wished that she could be so misunderstanding of the feelings that Meriam had been flooded with.

The feeling of burying your child.

Unfortunately, Sam knew all too well how hollow and empty that made someone feel.

"Just… my goodness, first the baby and now this… I just hope you're doing ok."

"I'm doing fine," she sighs.

"It figures you would."

Calvin spoke with such hate that if words were fire, Sam would be completely immolated. Her eyes immediately turned to him, and Tucker and Danny followed suit.

"Calvin, please…" Meriam grabbed ahold of his forearm. "You promised you wouldn't do this."

"Well, somebody should," he glared at Sam. "She did something to him. He's dead because of her."

"Whoa, whoa," Tucker calmly took a step forward, holding his hands outward. "Let's just take it easy, alright?"

"Take it easy? My son is dead!"

"Yes, but Sam had nothing to do with it," Danny joined in.

Now, Sam stood directly behind the two men.

"Bullshit. She either broke his heart and drove him to it or forced him to do it. You're hiding something, Samantha. We all know it!"

"Calvin, please––" Meriam tried to calm him down to the best of her ability, but Calvin didn't hold back.

"You did something to him. You did something, and you refuse to say anything!"

"I didn't do anything!" Sam shot back, her voice raising to where it grabbed the attention of everyone within the vicinity.

Normally, Sam would've been embarrassed to be the center of attention.

But as of then, she couldn't have cared less.

"You killed him! It's your fault!" He held his finger up accusingly.

Sam could feel herself crumble.

"That's enough, Calvin!" Meriam scolded.

"What did you do to him!?"

"I didn't do anything, ok!" She cried, her cheeks flushing with crimson red. She balled up her fists up so tightly that her fingernails dug into her palms. "You have no idea the kind of hell that he put me through, and you have the _nerve_ to say that _I_ hurt _him?_ You weren't even there! You gave him money for his treatment then dumped him into my hands. You didn't know how to be a father but for some reason, it's my fault that he's dead!? New flash: you didn't know your son as well as you think."

Without giving him a chance to respond, she stormed off to the other side of the room, further away from the casket and her spiteful father-in-law.

Standing alone at the back of the room, she had never felt as humiliated and betrayed as she did in that moment. Without reason or hesitation, her in-laws turned on her. She wasn't sure if it was out of anger or if it were for some other reason.

All she knew was that she didn't want anything to do with Josh or those related to him ever since.

She felt a rush of nausea in the pit of her stomach, her guts bubbling, and she held her hand to it to do her absolute best to keep herself from upchucking all over the glossed linoleum.

Not that she didn't have a bathroom to go to…

But she wanted to act natural.

At least for now.

"You look like shit," she heard a voice acknowledge her.

 _That voice… who's is it?_

And that's when she came face-to-face with an old friend, and coworker of Josh's, Jason McCormick.

"Jason!" She let out in exasperation. "How are you!? I haven't seen you in forever!"

"Yeah, for a good few years. You disappeared off the map. What happened?"

"Too much," she responded with a slight frown. "I only wish I had enough time to explain."

"Long story short?"

"I…" she sighed. "Josh was… he was hurting me and… and he pretty much dictated my life. I lost my job, my friends, my family… all because he wanted me all to himself."

"Oh, Sam…"

"I know, I know. I didn't have much of a choice but to just… obey, you know? God, that sounds so pathetic of me—like I'm a dog or something."

"So, what's next for you then?"

"Well… I'm moving back home and just… doing the best that I can to start fresh."

"Let me know where you're staying," he suggested. "I want to check in on you in a bit, and let me know when you finally get a phone too."

He walks past her, Sam's lips turned up in a hint of content. She turned at a one-eighty and made eye contact with him.

He gave her a comforting smile. "It was really good to see you again, Sam."

And with that, he rejoined his wife just across the way.

...

After the altercation with Calvin, she was much more relaxed. She finally felt that she could carry herself onto to the end.

The rest of the funeral went as any other funeral would. Family and friends gave their own eulogies. Calvin had foolishly talked about how he had watched his son grow into the good man that he was and how it was a tragedy that he died so suddenly. His coworkers talked about how much of a hard worker he was and how he would be deeply missed.

But when it came time for Sam to speak, it took a turn straight down awkward street.

She stepped up to the podium, eyeing the casket just five feet off to the side. It was so peculiar knowing that Josh was lying in there, at rest and at peace, when just over a week before he was fully alive and ready to kill. A part of her wanted to see for herself, but she remembered how he had gone out, and knew that it was for the best that the wake was a closed casket.

How was she able to come clean and be honest, spilling the beans about how the person everyone thought he was was really a sham, when she had so much pressure put against her?

If she had read her eulogy, they'd have her head on a stick.

But she also knew that she wasn't going to keep lying––not to anyone in that room. Not to her family.

Not to herself.

With Josh being dead, his sharp-clawed, venomous grip that he had latched tightly around her throat had been released.

That meant that Sam would no longer tolerate being his slave––his puppet––anymore.

She was going to expose him for the manipulative, conniving snake that he was.

She steps up to the mic, taking a deep breath and glancing down at her piece of paper. As she examined the words, she struggled to read them due to the water beginning to cloud her vision. She had studied her speech repeatedly, over and over again. All of those words were practically memorized.

She didn't even need that paper, but she no longer remembered how to guide herself.

She cleared her throat. "Uh… hello, everyone. Thank you for coming today." She paused, her eyes falling on Danny, who had been sitting in the second row right beside Tucker. She'd found in those baby blue eyes of his what she so desperately needed to see: solace.

Almost as if he were telling her: "It's ok… just do it."

"I know that many of you loved Josh and thought so highly of him. He was there for you in your time of need. He comforted you when you so badly needed it. He was an overall good friend, great son and someone that you were proud to say that you knew." She sniffed, her shoulders rolling back to where she stood confident and tall, "but for me, that simply wasn't the case.

"I'd met Josh over ten years ago on our Princeton college campus at a student café. He chatted me up and I did the same and… I could tell that he fell hard for me, because immediately after he asked me out on a date. I was, in my own way, in a really bad position. I had previously gotten out of a very good relationship where I had been forced to let go, but I felt in my heart that I never truly did. But he coaxed me into it, and it was… it was one of the best dates I'd ever been on. He was charming, funny, sweet, and overall he gave such a positive, glowing vibe. I was completely head over heels for him… and I think that was where everything began to spiral out of control––not just for me, but for him too. Both of us let our fourth wall down and crossed into the other room… but neither of us were prepared to face what we saw.

"After we got married, and we got comfortable, Josh told me he wanted to start a family. I was incredibly hesitant at first; my family and friends know that growing up I didn't do too well around kids. But I figured if I were ever to consider it, with whom would be better to do so than with the person that I love more than life itself? And I did… I really did. Too much, as a matter of fact, to the point that I let it blind me. When I became pregnant, I thought that he'd be excited. I thought that he'd be happy… but I was wrong. He reprimanded me, and when I stood up for myself––when I fought back… he slapped me. That was the starting point to many days and many nights crying and wishing for death to take me. I wanted to leave––you have _no idea_ how badly, but I knew that without him… I had nothing. He took _everything_ from me––made me cut off contact with my friends, my family… made me quit my job. _He_ was the only thing I had left, regardless of the fact that it was because of deduction.

"I'm sorry," she inhaled deeply and exhaled with ease. She wiped the lone tear that fell from her right eye. "I know that a eulogy is supposed to reveal how much you love the person and how much you'll miss them… but I feel it isn't very fair to lie on behalf of his life, admitting things about him that aren't true. We didn't have a perfect, healthy, loving relationship. It was something I wanted out of. The only reason why you all didn't know this was happening is because he'd done so well to cover it all up. He had gotten so good at lying to me that eventually, he was able to do the same to all of you. I'm not asking for attention or condolences… I just want all of you to understand––understand that if I don't cry for him… it's because I have nothing left to feel for him."

She turned to the casket, her eyes slitting as if to attempt to see through the wooden structure to the body nestled inside. "Josh… I do love you… and in ways I may never be able to understand, I will miss you. But I can never, ever bring myself to forgive you."

And with that, she steps off of the platform. The various shocked whispers of everyone around the room. She caught a glimpse of Calvin, who had been giving her a dirty look that spelled murder, but she responded with a tucked head and a rushed pace towards the exit.

Just behind her, without a single inkling of notice, Danny had followed quickly in her footsteps.

…

 **~D~**

He watched as Sam took off towards the double doors behind them, the mixture of feminine and masculine voices filling his ears. He quickly rose to his feet and shuffled past Tucker, picking up the pace to go after her. He saw her make a sharp left towards one of the unisex bathrooms and heard the door shut with such urgency that a small gust of wind break the air.

 _Oh, man… that was… crazy. I hope she's alright._

He stopped just shy of the door, hearing a soft, faint noise from the inside. He put his ear up to it in means of trying to properly identify it. Obviously it was Sam, but it didn't sound too positive.

She sounded… upset.

Danny knew he had to be there for her in her time of need.

He had to make sure she was ok.

He knocked softly on the door, his hands falling on his hips. "Sammie, are you ok? Can I come in?"

"No, I'm… I'm alright. I'll be right out."

"Please Sam. I can't be there for you if you don't let me in."

For a moment, there was nothing, and then there was a soft click and the turn of the doorknob, the wooden panel slowly moving towards the adjacent wall. She stood just before him, eyes red and face puffy. Her cheeks were flushed with hot blood, and she was struggling to breathe through her nose.

Danny gave her a consoling look and took a step forward, wrapping her up in his arms and kissing her on the forehead. His head rested upon her cranium.

"Are you upset about Josh? Do you need to talk about it?"

He was expecting her to respond with words, but to his surprise she began to laugh, as if in relief. Like the moment that you pop out and scare someone, but once that adrenaline wears off you can't help but laugh. He pulled back, examining her face to see that she was smiling widely.

"Are you ok?" He sounded cautious and awkward, but Sam merely let out a laugh.

"I've never been better… I'm free… I'm free, and I finally got everything out… said what I needed to say. It's like… for the past ten years I've been in a cage, constantly fighting to get out… and I finally did. I got through the bars… I'm happy."

The look that she had on her face was… indescribable. He had never seen Sam so redeemed. In a lighter tone, it was almost as if she had been holding her bladder for a two hour car ride and was finally able to relieve herself.

If it were any other circumstance, Danny would've thought it to be funny.

But given the situation…

Danny truly was happy for her, but even though he'd never admit for the sake of her self-pride…

He pitied her.

Pity, however, wasn't something that she needed in the moment.

It wasn't something she needed at all.

She tucked her bottom lip beneath her upper set of teeth, nibbling on it slightly before she reached up on her tiptoes and kissed him, grasping the back of his neck and leading him to holding her at the waist. It was the little things that Sam did that sometimes drove him nuts, but also made his heart swell. The way her eyes light up when she talks about something she's passionate about, like animals or volunteering in earth friendly communities. How her eyes twitch a little when she starts to get angry. How she scrunches her nose for a millisecond whenever she blatantly covers the truth.

How she bites at her bottom lip right before she goes in to kiss him.

Danny memorized everything about her to the point of perfectly crafting her in every woman he sees . As much as he loved Sarah, he knew that his feelings for Sam made his feelings for her blurry. It was as if Sarah were the clouds, but Sam was the sun that outshined them. Sarah was the green light he had yet to get to, but Sam was the red light he had been stopped at. Everywhere he turned, no matter what, all he could see was Sam. In a way, it was as if she'd never even left.

At least, it was for him.

And he was just so happy to finally be content again.

"Sam," he whispers, his breath grazing the skin of her lips.

"Hm?"

"Are you… sure you're in a predicament to do this? I don't want you to feel pressured or…"

"I'm more than sure," she smiled at him.

With her right hand braced on his chest, he felt the amplified cooling sensation push straight through him. It was almost shuttering, even for a half-ghost with a cold core. Sam's skin was made of ice, and almost every touch extinguished him. She was the water that made all things grow: plants, animals, hearts…

Love.

But it was never a bad thing.

If it were up to him, he'd let her completely drown him.

The two lovebirds heard footsteps approaching their way and Sam swiftly turned, taking lead out of the bathroom and stepping out. Tucker had not long come into frame to where both her and Danny could see him, and with a smirk on his face, he asked suggestively, "what are you two doing back here?"

"Sam was upset, so…" Danny started, exiting the bathroom and standing beside Sam, just across from Tucker. "...I decided to see if she was alright."

"You sure you two weren't doing anything _inappropriate?"_

"You're a disgusting perv, Tucker," Sam scoffed.

"What?" He asked innocently.

Danny turned to take notice that the room was beginning to clear. People were leaving the wake and heading out to their cars to drive to the cemetery for the burial. Tucker took Danny by the shoulder, motioning his head off to the side as if to give him a signal. Danny gave him a nod and turned to Sam.

"Hey, Sam, go ahead and chill with your parents for a bit and I'll be there in a bit, ok?"

Her eyesight shifted between the two men before she shrugged and gave him nod before retreating to the wake room and leaving the men in peace.

Tucker, with his hand buried in the pockets of his khaki slacks, craned his neck in slightly as if to be discreet. "How is Sam holding up?"

"To be frank… the guy that died was a piece of shit, but… he was also her husband. Needless to say, she's confused on how to feel."

"Is she going to be comfortable with going back to her house to get all of her stuff and…"

"I don't know. I haven't talked to her about that yet. I guess she's deciding to cross that bridge when she gets there."

"You know… I have a place for her to go, if she wants. She doesn't have to stay in that house; there's a pretty nice house back in Amity that's for sale. The house was left to her, right?"

"Yeah. Josh had her down as his primary beneficiary, even though he can't really give her what she doesn't already have."

"Yeah, so if she thinks it'll be too difficult to stay there, she could just sell the house and use the money as a down payment for this one," he shrugged. "I know it's not up to us, but… it's an option. I mean, who'd want to stay there after being practically chained there as a prisoner?"

"Then me and you will have to go in and patch up the walls. Remember? Because…"

"Oh," he slouched, "yeah."

"You know," Danny started. "All of this has me thinking…"

"About what?"

"About everything I missed out on when we left for college. Me and Sam… we would've had a great life, better than how it turned out."

"Sarah wasn't that bad, was she?"

"Not nearly as bad as Josh, but… she had her moments. Sam is the only one that made me feel ok with being myself… made me feel like I wasn't being manipulated. I mean… right after I got my ghost powers, I thought that was all she really cared about: me in that state. Just… the idea of knowing your best friend was a hybrid. But I was wrong… Sam cared about me even before that, and she cared about me long after. I felt like a freak, but you guys actually made me feel special. Like… it was all worth it."

"It was our job. It still is. We're your friends, dude. And you know what? It'd be dope if you had a little Daniel Jr. running around farting out ectoplasm clouds."

"W-What?" Danny's face drained of color.

"I know that you and Sam are together. It's going to happen sooner or later."

"I don't want to push her into that. I don't want to push her into anything. She just lost her husband, and the last thing she needs is someone to come in and take his place. It's… it's––"

"It's not like he deserves it? He was an asshole, Danny. Maybe Sam may not see it now, but it would be for the better if you did."

" _When_ she's ready."

"Whatever you say."  
"I'm just going to let her come to me first."

"We'll see how that works out."

Danny looked to see Sam's parents walking out, Jeremy's arm over his lover's shoulder. Pamela approached him and brought him in for a warm embrace, which took Danny by surprise. He gave her a pat on the back, looking at Sam just behind her mother with a look that said 'what the hell is going on?', to which Sam just shrugged.  
'Just go with it,' she mouthed.

"Uh… hi, Mrs. Manson."

"Please, son, just call me Pamela." She pulled back and held his arms, looking him up and down before her eyes met with his. "I just wanted to thank you so much for looking after our daughter… for saving her. I… I was so worried that it would be Sam in that casket."

Danny winced at the thought of having to put lillies on Sam's grave, and it made him hate Josh even more, as if it had even been possible at that point. He was glad that he chose to cross that lawn; he didn't regret Sarah getting pissed about him going into town to look after her. In the end, everything was worth it.

Because if he were to come a day later.

A week.

A month.

A year…

Maybe it would've been Sam in that casket, ready to be lowered into the ground.

And Danny would never forgive himself.

And Josh would've been murdered as slowly and as painfully as Danny could make possible.

"I couldn't imagine… I don't want to imagine," he sighed. "And anyway, it's not a big deal. I've always protected Sam; I've always protected Tucker. And I'm never going to stop because… they mean everything to me."

"I was wrong about you, Daniel," Jeremy's face was neutral, but positive. "You clearly love our daughter…"

"Ah, well––"

"Daniel, enough. Let's be real: we know that you and Sam have been dating on the side through all of this."

"Seriously!? Who keeps blabbing?"

"No one told us," Pamela laughed. "Nobody has to tell us. We just know."

"You still didn't like me even when me and Sam dated back in high school?"

"I'm not going to lie––you weren't my favorite. I wanted to kill you for how much danger you put my daughter in––"  
"Dad," Sam glared at him.

"But… I also know that Sam is a grown woman… always has been, and she makes her own choices."

The previously built up anxious tension significantly subsided. Danny let out a long, relieving exhale.

"I'd never try to put either of them in danger. If they got hurt… I would never forgive myself."

"Yes, well…" Jeremy gave Sam a kiss on her cranium and took his wife by the hand, gently pulling at her to follow him. "I wouldn't forgive you, either."

With that, he headed for the door and Pamela mouthed a very brief 'thank you' before tailing him. Sam smirked, nudging Danny's arm with a playful grin.

"He'll come around," she assured him.

"Yeah, you've been saying that since high school."

She shrugged. "We're closer now than we were before."

Tucker cleared his throat and the two attended to his patient composure standing off to the side.

They had completely forgotten that he was even there, as they had been so caught up in the almost interrogative good cop/bad cop stand off.

"Hello? Faithful best friend and companion still standing here."

"Sorry, Tuck," she chuckled.

"Man, you just blend right in. Didn't even notice you."

"Hilarious," he rolled his eyes then turned to the raven-haired beauty. "Listen Sam… I have a place for you to go, if you're willing. I don't know what you plan on doing with that house, but there's a new one for sale in Amity that's relatively affordable. I figured maybe if you were comfortable with it, you could say your house for this one and we can have you moved in within the next couple of weeks."

"Really?" she beamed with a hint of joy. "You mean it?"

"Yeah, why not? Me and Danny can go in, patch up the walls, clean stuff up… it will look like new."

"Yeah, the house is beautiful, Sam. The holes are really the only major problem. We can fix it up."

"I could never make you guys do that––"

"You're not making us do it; we're offering to do it for you."

"You guys––"

"Enough, Sam," Danny laughed. "You're not a charity case. We do things like that for those we love."

"So, what do you say, Sam?" Tucker asked. "You up for it?"

…

It was one of the many nights that Sam had spent with Danny, yet the same dreams kept recurring. With only the baking moonlight as his source of light, he would watch for hours on end as Sam thrashed and cried in her sleep only to wake up in a screaming, sweating, shaking panic. She would sob endlessly; he would console her as best as he could, reassuring her that he was there for her and that he would never leave.

It was at the point now that he simply refused to give in. If Sam couldn't sleep right, then it was only fair that Danny didn't either. He had been like a free-roaming guard dog, keeping an eye on her as she tossed and turned in her dream. They had previously had a discussion about her nightmares: Danny wanted to get inside of one of them––to see what she was seeing so that he could better understand what she went through. She had told him repeatedly that the answer was no. She didn't want him to experience what she did. She thought that he couldn't handle it.

And, with the intention to respect her, he had resisted the urge as long as he could until he just couldn't take it anymore. He'd had enough.

He _needed_ to see what Josh had done to her for so long firsthand.

As her twisting and turning calmed down, he placed a hand on her head and kissed her temple, moving his lips to her pierced right ear. With a soft, sympathetic whisper, he apologized before turning transparent and slowly sinking into her body.

 _A grunt._

 _A growl._

 _A whimper._

 _Deep, animal-like sounds pressed against Danny's eardrums. He opened his eyes to see a broad man hovering over him, holding him at the throat as he thrusted back and forth._

 _It was Josh._

 _He felt the phantom muscles of his face contort._

 _He could feel the tight grasp wrapped completely around his neck. His eyes traveled downward to see Sam's short, skinny fingers gripping so firmly around Josh's wrists, and every sound he'd attempted to make came out high-pitched and feminine._

 _Harmonic… soft._

 _Just as her voice was._

 _And he immediately read her mood based on the bubbling feeling in his stomach and the bit of bile climbing up his throat. Every time he'd tried to move his muscles, he felt himself constricted. He was unable to move an inch._

 _He was so confused––he'd overshadowed Tucker, Sam, and Jazz when they were put to sleep by Nocturne, but he'd never possessed them in a dream before. It was enough to make his head spin, giving him a puzzle to solve. Then, the sudden thought came to him: he was inside of the car, but he was merely a passenger._

 _Sam was the one at the pedals._

 _That meant that everything that she felt immediately cascaded to his body._

 _And he didn't like what he was feeling at all… grimey… dirty… violated…_

 _Heartbroken._

" _Come on, baby, say something sexy."_

" _Like what?" She muttered in response._

" _Anything. I'm doing all of the work here."_

 _Sam remained silent._

' _How fucking disgusting,' she thought to herself. Her words echoed inside of Danny's head._

 _Her eyes looked up to see that Josh's face completely transformed. He no longer looked relieved, but rather furious… bloodthirsty…_

 _Terrifying._

 _He instantly stopped moving his hips and yanked her up closer to his face and spat at her through grit teeth: "how many times do I have to tell you, 'when I tell you to do something, you do it?!'"_

" _I don't know what to say, honey. Everything I say isn't enough. I have nothing else I_ _ **can**_ _say."_

" _You're not good for anything honey, but a servant and a tight pussy. You're not special; you can't do much right. I'm giving you the opportunity to mean something here, with me… but if you don't hold up your end… there's only so much I can do."_

" _Don't say that… I'm not a prostitute."_

" _You're right… you're not a prostitute… I don't have to pay you for this. That's the best part about being a woman's husband––freebies."_

" _What is the matter with you!?"_

" _Hey!" Danny felt a sting in his jaw as one of his balled up hands came flying at his face, making direct contact with his cheek. "Watch who you're fuckin' talkin' to like that."_

" _I'm sorry," she breathed._

" _You're sorry?" He scoffed. He tugged her up towards him._ " _ **You're sorry?"**_

 _Before Sam even had the chance to respond, he felt his throat close up and he struggled to take in air. Her hands came up to yank his hands off of her neck. Danny wanted, more than anything, to jump out of her body and beat him until there was no more breath left in him, but he couldn't figure out how to leave her body._

 _He felt the blood rush to his head and watched as black dots danced in his sight. Sam couldn't stretch herself out far enough to grab the TV remote in an effort to use it as a weapon. Josh had her completely pinned and at his mercy._

 _It infuriated Danny feeling as helpless as he did, and more so that he couldn't do anything to save her._

 _He just watched as her hands limply pawed at his forearms, hearing the sounds of her exhales grow fainter and fainter._

 _Danny wanted to watch him bleed._

" _Josh… can't… breathe…"_

 _It was the last thing she whispered before everything went dark, and it felt no more than a few seconds later when Danny was finally able to see again._

 _Josh had continued assaulting her._

 _This time, Sam was coherent enough to speak._

" _No… no…" her drowned voice managed to utter as she weakly tried to push him away. "Stop, Josh. I want to stop."_

 _He didn't listen._

" _Josh, please… it hurts…!"_

 _Danny, just barely, felt the almost nonexistent feeling of his lower region setting aflame. He wanted to take control of her and drive one of her hands straight through his chest._

" _Josh!" She began to beat his biceps and he took ahold of both of her wrist, spraining them and trapping them up against the mattress. Sam cried out in pain._

 _He kept moving around inside of her._

 _He was groaning._

 _Sam could only choke up with tears, letting the many unspoken words sink into her subconscious. After he'd let go of her wrist, she found that she couldn't moved them. It was as if her hands were nailed to the bed, and she was unable to fend for himself. He reached behind his back, pulling out something that Sam couldn't recognize at first but soon identified it to be a large kitchen knife. She gasped, shaking her head endlessly._

" _No! No! Josh, no!"_

 _He raised the blade over her._

" _Josh, no!"_

 _Danny saw his upper body stiffen._

" _JOSH!"_

 _He drove the blade through her stomach on the same second that he'd unloaded completely inside of her._

A shrill, ear-piercing scream abrupted from Sam's vocal box, and Danny felt himself catapult out of her body and onto the bed. She was spastic, flailing her arms around and using her legs to pedal. She crossed her arms around her entire torso, hugging herself and glancing around frantically.

He watched as her hands fell to her stomach, and she lifted her shirt to check the skin of her abdomen. For as lucid as her dream was, Danny was almost surprised to find no evidence of a puncture wound present. He was able to get on his hands and knees and turn to face her, shushing her as best as he could.

"No, no, no. It's ok, Sammie. I'm here."

She calmed herself to a rapid and uneven pattern of breathing; Danny struggled to find his use his lungs again.

He could feel the lingering of the vice grip constricting his throat.

"Oh my, God… oh my, God," she repeated over and over, falling into him and burying her face into his shirt. "Why can't he just leave me alone? I can't… I can't take it anymore."

"It's alright, Sammie. You're safe now." Despite his best efforts, Danny couldn't keep his vision from going foggy. He hardly ever cried; he almost didn't think he was capable of doing it.

But with Sam and her distraught episode, there was no way to hold himself back. He felt them come in a mere group, but soon it was to the point of practically showering Sam's hair. He could never tell her what happened; Sam would've never been able to trust him. The mere thought of it sickened him. He wanted to excavate his grave and beat his deteriorating body in as many ways as he could. Seeing her so vulnerable and helpless, like a weaseling animal…

He didn't know how Sam could ever overcome what she'd gone through.

"Oh God, Sammie," he rested his head on top of her head cap and rocked her back and forth, using his broad arms to protect her from the world around her. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you. I could've saved you… I could've saved you. You're never going to get hurt like that ever again, ok? Never."

She didn't say a word.

"I'm so sorry… I'm so sorry."'

Silence.

…

 _Six weeks later_

The sound of bulk tape ripping startled Sam out of her pants, and she quickly turned to see Danny closing off the last box and lifting it with his knees.

"Hey, it's alright. That was me."

She took a deep breath. "Yeah, you scared the hell out of me."

He set it down just outside of the bedroom door and placed his hands on his hips after turning around. "This is the last one."

"Finally. I just want to be done with this place."

"Yeah, well… I want you to be done with this place, too."

Danny started towards the closet and opened up the door, grabbing the last of the boxes that had previously been taped up and set aside to join the recently packed one. Just as he thought he grabbed the last one, he found one that he didn't recognize.

One that he didn't pack.

 _What's this?_

He kneels down, examining the outside of it from what he could see. There was no marking in particular that he could see from his angle, and it looked as if it had been sitting there for a while. He used his hand to wipe the dust off the top of the box and blew the rest of it off with a sharp exhale, grabbing ahold of it and turning it around.

Written in permanent marker on the other side was the label: _Josh's things._

 _Wait… she still has Josh's stuff?_

"I am definitely feeling a walk in the park or some good ol' fashion ghost hunting. How about it? The three of us can patrol like we used to back then. I think that would be really good for me. Or we could be like normal people and just try to unpack at my house. That is, if Tucker wants to help. I can't believe he was able to get my that house for such a good price. He's so good at what he does."

As Sam was talking, Danny had long pulled the box out of the closet, firmly gripping the sides of it. He eyed the outline on the wall beside the door, noticing that a picture that once hung there was now gone. He'd wondered if it was in said box, and he was close to reaching to disassemble the lids when Sam, confused from his lack of response, glanced back at him.

"Which box is that?"

Danny jumped, letting the box go and standing in front of it to hide it from her. He smiled innocently. "Nothing."

Sam gave him daggers, rising to her feet from her crouched position and slowly starting towards him. "Seriously, what is it?"

"Nothing."

She stood toe-to-toe with him, gently pushing him aside and looking down. Danny felt his heart drop when the immediate and apparent change in her facial expression became abundant. It had gone from being so happy and smiley to being indignant. He had already seen everything play out in his head before it happened.

And it wasn't going to be pretty.

She let out a breath, slowly but surely falling to her knees and resting, opening the top of the box to reveal what was inside.

Wedding pictures, wedding souvenirs, dating pictures, vacation pictures, Josh back in high school, Josh in college, his Princeton sweatshirt…

 _Everything_ was there.

She had gotten rid of everything else… _except_ for those.

"Sam…" Danny started, speaking in a low tone.

She had gone quiet as she rummaged through the contents in a very sluggish manner, as if time had slowed down and she couldn't move faster than a half an inch a second. He no longer had to see her face to know what she was thinking.

To know what she was feeling.

Pure and utter heartbreak.

And it crushed his insides.

"Sam, I'm so sorry…"

Her breath hitched. She didn't say anything. She just simply grabbed ahold of the box and, like a mindless zombie with no aim of direction, started out the bedroom, causing Danny to follow swiftly behind her. He decided not to say anything––just be there for her when she needed it the most.

Just like he'd always been.

He didn't really know where she was headed at first. He thought that she was just going outside to toss the box in the trash. But when he saw her reach for something on one of the coffee tables––something small and metallic looking––and shoving it into the pocket of her black cotton hoodie, he really started to question her intentions.

She made her way to the back sliding glass door, unlocking it and flinging it back to step outside on the porch. Danny closed it behind them and simply watched as she huffed, throwing the box on the lawn with such force that he was sure something inside had broken. She clenched her fists, her breathing getting heavier. He wanted to reach out and comfort her, to let her know that he was there for her, but he knew Sam and knew that when she was angry… no matter how much she needed that comfort…

She needed space even more.

She stomped over to the shed that stood about five feet from the sliding door resting against the side of the house and opened the doors, stepping in and grabbing a plastic white bottle that he couldn't recognize at first, but caught a glimpse of the label in a split second.

Charcoal lighter.

She was carrying charcoal lighter.

Danny had a bad feeling about the situation.

"Sam…" he started cautiously, but they'd reached a point where she was seeing such a deep red on the spectrum that she had completely tuned him out. She dropped the fluid to the ground and ripped the top of the box open once more, grabbing the exact frame that Danny originally identified the outline of on the wall beside the door.

A wedding photo.

Her and Josh cutting their cake.

One of the most vivid memories––and one of the last––of Sam at her happiest with this newfound relationship. She gripped it with both hands, her shoulders beginning to shake. She sniffed, letting out a cry. Her body drooped. She almost sunk completely.

She was on an emotional rollercoaster, and Danny was sitting beside her all along the way.

This man––this horrible, evil man––had turned Sam into someone unfathomable and unrecognizable from the Sam she used to be. He reeled her in, broke her and then left her to pick up the pieces. He had taken everything that she had ever loved away from her, forcing her to start her life anew.

Ten years.

She wasted ten years of her life with a man that couldn't care less what she wanted or needed, but merely pretended.

She wasted ten years being treated like a slave instead of a wife.

She wasted ten years being silenced instead of encouraged to speak out.

She wasted ten years of her life being scared—running, hiding, crying, screaming, yelling...

She missed out on a _lifetime_ of being a mother, because this man had been on a neverending power trip.

 _Fuck this guy… I'm glad he's dead… poor Sam…_

She suddenly stopped and threw the frame to the ground, the glass shattering completely. She bent down and picked up the picture, crumbling it up and tossing it just ahead of the box before kicking it to the ground. Danny watched as she grabbed the charcoal lighter and popped the lid open, spraying over every inch of the contents top to bottom and front to back. She tossed it aside and dug in her pocket to retrieve a Zippo lighter.

It wasn't familiar with Danny at all. That he knew of, Sam never owned a lighter. She despised smokers and didn't own candles because she thought they were too "girly". What purpose would she have one for?

Unless it belonged to Josh.

She flicked it until a flame emerged and with that, accompanied with a thick wad of spit from her mouth, she tossed the lighter right at the contents and watched as it was swallowed into flames. She took a few steps back, her hands coming to rest on her knees. Danny watched in shock, frozen in place, as the fire grew bigger and bigger.

And all along the way, Sam just wept harder and harder.

The only time she'd stopped was when she looked up at the box and screamed in pure rage, alternating between tears and strained vocal cords.

"Sam…" he whispered, holding her shoulders.

"I TRUSTED YOU!" She yelled, her cheeks streaked with black ink––her skin burning hot to the touch. "I thought that you loved me! I thought you were going to get better! I thought that everything was going to be ok! You lied to me… YOU FUCKING LIED TO ME! I hate you! I HATE YOU! Burn in Hell, you fucking bastard!"

"Sam," he spoke up.

"Why? Why did you do this to me!? I loved you more than anything… _why did you do this to me!?_ WHY!?"

"Sammie!" Danny called for her attention as sternly as he could muster.

She turned into Danny's chest, yearning for consolation and warmth. She grabbed at the fabric of his shirt and sobbed endlessly, Danny holding her as tight as he could in her arms.

"It's ok," he quietly assured her just beside her ear, petting her hair. "I'm here. It's ok."

He had, in that moment, shared the millions and millions of thoughts racing on a track in her head. He had no idea what it was like to lose the person that you love forever, but he did know that he felt the same thing when the both of them split up...crippled and broken; abandoned and pissed off. He never thought Sam could change him as much as she did, and when he lost her, he didn't know how to live.

That same familiar feeling loomed over him like a dark moving cloud. To experience something so powerful and beautiful only for it to be taken from you almost instantaneously… to continue loving someone after they've hurt you… betrayed you.

It was like waiting for a sun that would never rise… like breathing without lungs…

For Sam in particular, it was much, much more than that.

She suddenly stopped crying, the sound of crackling and popping coming from the fire behind her. He was momentarily confused, his eyebrows furrowing, and he felt her body softly jerk in an odd three second interval. He looks at her, reading her face as best as he could.

Her face was still facing towards the ground.

He realized that she was heaving.

"Sam… you ok?"

One hand came up to cover her mouth; her other wrapped around his forearm. Her entire chest leading up to her neck turned red. The pores on her forehead broke a sweat.

"Sam? Are you gonna––?" He led her to the grass as quickly as he could. "In the grass, in the grass."

And then it happened.

Sam folded in and vomited right on her back lawn. The sound that escaped her mouth along with it was a mixture of a punch to the gut and a feverish cough. He moved her hair back and placed a hand on her back, rubbing it in a small circle.

"Ok, ok…" he comforted her. "It's alright."

She let out a cough. Then a burp. Then she vomited once more.

"Jesus, Sam," he sighed as his free hand wiped a chunk off of her face. As gross as it was, Danny was comfortable with it as it wasn't the only time he'd done something so personal with her. She was probably the only one he _would_ do that for.

So long as he had a place to wash his hands afterwards.

"Ugh, Danny." Her faint voice was raspy and choked. "Don't touch my vomit. That's disgusting."

"It wouldn't be the only time, Sam."

"Touching my puke?"

"Doing something gross. Are you feeling alright? What's got you so sick?"

"I…" she breathed. "I don't know."

"Well, hey, let's… let's just grab the rest of the boxes and head out, ok?"

"Ok…" Her frail tone barely carried its way to his eardrums, but he had long learned to understand her in each one she used. When he moved to help her to the sliding glass door, she stumbled, tripping over one of her feet and nearly toppling to the ground before he quickly reached out and caught her.

"God, Sam…"

"I'll be alright," she said. "Maybe it's just stress or… something."

"Sam, I've seen you get nervous and your nerves never made you throw up. Are you sure you aren't getting sick?"

"I don't know… maybe."

When they returned inside and packed up the boxes ready for its departure (after he had washed his hands, of course), they grabbed the few remaining boxes that sat just at the front door of Danny's former house. He couldn't help but glance over at the place that once belonged to him and Sarah.

Now, it was just hers, since the deed was in her name.

She and Danny had been remotely civil, as much as two could be when one figured out the other had cheated. They did promise to remain friends, as the way that they went out wasn't the greatest but it definitely wasn't ugly. At least, Danny would like to think so. Sarah worked out that Danny would be given enough time to gather his things and that she'd give him plenty enough time to figure out where he was going to live from that point on. Instead of finding a place of his own, Sam had finally come forth to offer him a place in her new home.

A permanent place where they'd get to live together for the first time.

This was big for Danny, and he had to try his hardest to contain his excitement. He was glad that he and Sam were slowly reeling each other into one another, picking up where they had left off over a decade before, but Sam still had plenty of weaning to do before she was comfortable in this new life she had made for herself.

A lot of things to get used to.

A lot of things to get over.

There was so much that Danny wanted to do for her that he couldn't––that she had to do for herself.

But he truly felt that him moving in, providing her safety, comfort and love, was a step in the right direction.

All that was left to do was to wait until Sam was done wading in the water.

…

 **~S~**

Danny and Tucker had been gone all day and Sam, her anxiety level through the roof, had been left alone accompanied only with her rising anxiety levels. The two men weren't comfortable with the idea of leaving Sam behind, but she insisted on staying for a variety of reasons. Firstly, they had almost been finished with renovation. Almost every hole was patched, broken windows were replaced and beaten down doors got brand new hinges. Secondly, they had only had two more days before everything had to be removed and repaired for open house visits, as Sam had put it on the market not long before. And lastly…

Lastly, there was something that Sam had to attend to that she didn't quite want Danny or Tucker to know about yet.

She had been vomiting non stop day after day starting almost a week before. She was picking up odd smells left and right, her mood was through the roof, her appetite had changed…

She'd missed her period.

She knew what all of these signs––these symptoms––had led to, so she wasn't sure why she had been surprised when upon taking the home pregnancy test, she had seen, very faintly, a little pink cross.

 _Pink cross,_ she thought. Even her inner voice had lost itself. _Pink cross! Shit… no way. It's a fluke. It has to be a fluke._

So, she tried another, and as she waited, she'd quickly done the math in her head, counting the days since her last period to her current due date to estimate the time of her fertile window. Her mouth dropped when she realized that the night she and Josh slept together aligned right in the middle of her ovulation cycle.

The dates certainly matched up.

The possibility that the baby belonged to Danny was much slimmer, considering they didn't sleep together until a couple of days after the fact.

She tried yet another.

And another.

She tried five tests total and each and every one came back with the same result…

 _That damn little pink cross… fuck… I'm pregnant. My God, what am I going to do? Is it Josh's? What is Danny going to think when I tell him? I can't… I can't tell him. But he'll find out eventually; my body is the size of a toothpick! I'll pop faster than a jack out of a box!_

She sat on the toilet seat, setting the stick on the counter beside her and resting her face in her hands. How was she supposed to explain everything to Danny? How was she supposed to say, 'hey, I'm pregnant, but I don't know if it's yours or not?' She couldn't stand lying to him, getting his hopes up about being a father. It would break his heart.

She had thought back to that moment––the moment before she had been rescued by her long lost lover. She remembered very vividly how Josh had looked that night.

How he smelled of booze, sweat and tobacco.

How he had held her down and kissed her neck forcefully after she tried to pull away.

How she had repeatedly told him to stop… but he had kept going.

It made Sam nearly lose her lunch for the third time that day.

 _I can't believe I'm saying this, but… if the baby is_ _ **his…**_ _I don't think I'll be able to love it like I should._ She immediately shook her head rigorously. _Sam, for God's sake, this is still your child! It can't help that it's father is an asshole, and it didn't ask for this––it didn't ask for life. Don't talk like that… you know better than that._

But in the back of her mind, she would never forget how much pain she had felt that evening––both physical and emotional.

And then came a sudden knock at the front door and Sam quickly stood to her feet. She felt her spine shiver as she had anticipatingly stared at the bathroom door like an intruder would burst through at any moment. She took a sharp inhale, slowly reaching out to open the door and peak her head around the corner at the front door. She had seen the silhouette of what looked like a man who was about Danny's height, but smaller in frame. She couldn't quite make out a lot of details, but she had a feeling that it was someone that she knew.

 _Who is that?_

She makes her way to the front door and, with a shaky hand, uses her index finger and thumb to clutch the lock and turn it to the left, opening the door just a crack and peeking out.

It was Jason.

She sighed in relief and pulled the door open the rest of the way, giving him a faint smile.

"You scared the shit out of me. No one back at home knows where I live now, so…"

"Is that so?"

"So, how did you find out?"

"I have my, uh… ways." His eyes scanned the room just behind her. Sam's left arm leaned against the fine edge of the wooden door.

"Do you want to come in?" She asked politely.

"Actually, I would, but I have somewhere I have to be. I was just dropping in to see how you were doing and if you were settling in alright."

"I'm ok… I'm doing just fine."

The look on his face was a melting pot of shame and alleviation. Sam wasn't quite sure how to interpret it––what could he possibly feel guilty about for something he had no control over?

"Are you ok? You look like you've committed a crime."

"I, uh… haven't been sleeping well the past couple of months… ever since Josh… I just… I can't believe this whole time… you weren't around. You never came around, and we all questioned it, but… none of us did anything about it."

"It wasn't your guys' fault."

"It feels like it."

"There was nothing you could have done," Sam shrugged. She sounded disturbingly mundane, as if she had been talking about what her favorite color was. "Josh was sick, and… and he wasn't going to get better."

"Yeah, I mean… I knew about his alcohol problem, but I figured he was just angry after what the doctor said."

Sam was about to respond when she paused, her head drawing back and her mouth stuck open just before her sentence could form. "Doctor? What doctor? When?"

"He never told you?" Jason's eyebrows knitted. Sam, as puzzled as humanly possible, steadily shook her head with her eyes glued onto his. He continued, "he went to the doctor about… shit, I don't know… like a week or so before he died. He had come to work all the time talking about how you guys were trying for a baby but it just wasn't happening, and he was confused because you guys had already conceived before. So he went to a fertility doctor, got examined and… I guess he had a low sperm count."

Sam's jaw had dropped almost to the ground, and she felt her eyes getting teary. A knot formed in her throat. Goosebumps had colonized her entire body.

"W-What?"

"Yeah. Doctor thinks it was a mixture between stress and excessive alcohol usage. He basically killed off all of his sperm. According to him, he still had a couple of cells in his testes, but not a lot. His count is relatively close to zero, so his chance of having another child––at least until he had gotten better––was one in a thousand."

 _Oh my God…_

"Yeah, he always came to work in a sort of depression. I just figured it was because of that; I had no idea that you were struggling with him abusing you and whatnot."

 _Oh. My. God._

"Uh, Sam? You alright? _Hello,_ Earth to Sam. You still with me?"

 _Me and Danny… we're… I'm…_ _ **oh my God.**_

Her face was frozen in complete and shock, but absolute joy. She let out a laugh. She touched his shoulder. "Thank you for coming to check on me, Jason."

"Uh…" he was genuinely confused, but oblivious to Sam's euphoric state of mind. "No problem, Sam. I gotta head out. I'll catch you later?"

All she could do was nod, her mouth still gaped wide open, as she ever so softly closed the door to where she heard a light _click._

She couldn't believe it.

She really couldn't believe.

 _Me and Danny are having a baby… oh my God! OH MY GOD!_

She could feel her body rush through an ultimate high that she couldn't come down from––that she never wanted to come down from. It had been her dream ever since they started dating to one day have something remotely close to a family, and after their breakup she never thought they'd ever have the chance.

But now, it was happening. It was _finally_ happening.

Her stomach was doing cartwheels, kicking around her intestines and making her gag slightly, but quickly recover.

She could honestly say for certain that even taking into account her first pregnancy, she was actually _glad_ to be puking out her guts in the toilet.

She do it over and over again if that meant that she'd be bringing a part of Danny into this world.

 _And to think that a mere fifteen minutes ago, I couldn't imagine telling him… now…_

 _Now I can't wait._

 _I can't wait to tell_ _ **everybody.**_

…

 **~D~**

" _Hey, it's Sam. Blah blah message blah."_

 _Beep._

"Hey, Sam. It's me," Danny greeted her voicemail machine in disappointment that it wasn't her real voice on the end instead. "It's like the fifth or sixth time I've called you all day, and you haven't called back, so… please do? I'm getting worried." He swallowed roughly, hesitating for a moment before finally uttering, "I love you." Then, hung up the phone. It was convenient that they were able to get her a new phone once she moved back home, but it also came with a side serving a pissed off and annoyed Danny.

Part of getting a phone is to use it, and he truly felt that Sam, lately, was being very mindless in answering or making calls or texts to and from other people.

When his attention finally directed to what was happening around him, he noticed Tucker looking at him weirdly. Danny, already predicting Tucker's unhelpful sarcasm, hastily responded, "I'm just worried, alright? She did just lose her husband and she's on medication and she could be depressed—"

"Dude, you worry too much. Sam is fine."

"Sam hasn't called all day!"

"She's probably taking a nap or misplaced her phone or something! Chill, dude. Let's just finish this shit up so that we can get out of here. If I see another hole, I'm gonna dig Josh up from the grave just to punch the shit out of his corpse."

Danny gave him a brisk nod, continuing to mix what was left of the patch. No number of objectives could take his mind off of her. No amount of concentration on the task before him would divert his attention from her.

He couldn't stop thinking about her.

Was she okay? Was she upset or depressed? Had she hurt herself?

What if she were lying on the floor breathless as he and Tucker spoke?

Danny took a deep breath, shaking his head quickly. He had to stay focused; Sam was fine. She was fine and he was just worrying like he always had.

 _God, I hope he's right._

An hour later as they were packing up the house, Danny couldn't help but high tail it to the car. Tucker noticed naturally, and rolled his eyes in disbelief.

"You worry too much. I don't know how Sam deals with it."

"She's the same way with us."

He raised his eyebrows. "Sure."

The forty-five minute drive back felt like hours. The entire way, Danny's obvious antsy body language peaked Tucker's notability. For what seemed like the whole way, Danny's leg bounced up and down erratically. He couldn't seem to sit still, and Tucker tried his hardest to calm him down to no avail. With each finger tap on the door frame and each small groan of frustration, Tucker grew even more annoyed.

"Dude, you seriously need to _relax."_

"It's not like her to do this, Tuck. You don't think that this is weird? Not even a little bit?"

"Of course it's weird. Sam's always been super good at keeping in touch, but––"

"But nothing, Tuck. You know Sam, and you know that something is up!"

"Well, even if something _is,_ worrying about it will do no good, will it?"

"I––" he began, but his friends gave him a look of superiority.

A look that said that he'd won.

No matter how much Danny hated to admit it, he knew that Tucker had a point. If something was going on, the best thing to do was to remain calm and approach her rationally––to be supportive.

He turned to look out the passenger window, his arms folded across his chest and legs stretched out to brace his back against the seat rest. Other cars zoomed past him much faster than what Tucker was going. Danny assumed that those people could have been in a hurry and probably needed to be someplace fast.

Still, it was inexcusable. They were going eighty in a sixty mile per hour zone. Someone could get hurt; someone could die.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds and then reopened them, attempting to erase the thought completely from his mind.

 _Sam's fine… she's fine…_ _ **she's fine.**_

" _I'm fine," he heard her voice reply to him in what sounded very shaken and broken, completely apart from the Sam that she was. His head picked itself upright to see that streams of salty rivers were travelling at high speeds down her cheeks. He used his right hand to cup her chin, leaning in to where his forehead had aligned with hers and looked deeply into her eyes. Her eyelashes tickled at his lids._

" _No, you're not, Sam," he whispered. "If there's something bothering you… if you're not okay with this, then I won't go. I'll move to Jersey with you. You can go to school and I can go to a community college."_

" _You can't afford that, Danny! Do you know how expensive New Jersey is? The only reason why I'll be able to stay in a dorm out there is because my parents have enough money to pay my way through college. That's it!"_

" _Then I'll work more than one job, Sam! I don't_ _ **have**_ _to go to school; it's not a requirement."_

" _Being an astronaut is your_ _ **dream**_ _, Danny, and I'm not going to let you choose me over following it."_

" _Yeah, well, you forget that you don't have a fucking choice. It's_ _ **my**_ _decision––one that I'm making for myself, and I'm not going to let anyone have control over that."_

 _She scoffed, glancing up at the ceiling and wiping her eyes with the palms of her hands._

" _You've worked so hard for this… you've put all of your might into it… you've picked up your grades… you busted your_ _ **ass**_ _on the aptitude test… I'm_ _ **not**_ _going to let that be for nothing."_

" _ **You**_ _are what matters to me! I'd give up everything I have if it meant the one thing I could keep was you. So, just… say the word, and I'll stay."_

 _Sam had a way with words, but an even better way with body language. It spoke much louder than she ever could. There was so much she looked like she wanted to say––all of them pointing to 'stay with me'. The way she carried herself, the look in her eyes and the light trembling of her lips made that all too apparent._

 _But she nonetheless shook her head, her bottom lip tugging so far inward that her chin littered with dimples. She was speechless at first, but manage to muster out the words: "I can't."_

 _Danny sighed and crossed his arms, rolling his shoulders forward in small circles._

" _So, I guess that's it, then? I'm packing up and leaving tomorrow, and you're not going to stop me?"_

" _What do you want me to do, Danny? Cry my eyes out and beg for you to stay? This has to happen––for me and for you. And we will see each other again… I know we will. Besides, there's the holidays and… breaks..."_

 _He gave her a nod and took a step towards her, giving her a big kiss on her cheek._

" _Nothing will ever keep me away from you… and I know we're headed towards different coasts, but if there's anything you need––?"_

" _Let you know? What, are you going to drive all the way from Colorado just to help me?"_

" _If that's what it takes? Yeah."_

 _With wobbly lips and glassy eyes, she leaned into him for a close hug, but Danny turned it into a loving kiss at the last minute––a long, passionate kiss. He caught her bottom lips in his teeth, taking her behind the neck with one hand and a grazed jawline with the other. It was weird, Sam being the dominant one over both of the boys since the day they all met only to have the roles reversed when they were in an intimate relationship. He couldn't help having the upper hand over her, but she didn't care._

 _She'd even said before that she thought it was incredibly sexy._

' _Don't get used to it,' she'd always tell him. 'I'm not a weak girl because I love being controlled.'_

"Yeah," Danny muttered to himself, watching as a red sedan drove past him in a blur.

"What?" He heard Tucker ring out from the driver's seat, and without looking back, Danny gave him answer.

"Nothing."

…

As they pulled up to the new house standing as what appeared to be the tallest and the easiest on the eye respectively, Danny's anxiety only amplified when he noticed that all of the lights were off and everything was quiet. It was a half an hour until dark, still _way_ too early for Sam to check out.

Something was off about the situation, whether it was good or bad.

Danny was afraid to find out which one it was.

"Look, if you're so worried about it," Tucker gestured towards the front door, "then go in there and check in on her."

"You going home?" Danny asked.

"Half ghosts may not need much sleep, but full blooded mammals do."

Danny, with just barely of a response, had gotten out of the car so quickly that Tucker thought watching him do so would've made his head spin. He grabbed the tools that they'd took from Sam's garage earlier and clutched the handle of it in his hand.

"Keep me posted," Tucker called out before pulling off down the street. Danny raced up the porch steps and grabbed his keys out of his pockets, picking out the correct one with just his index finger and thumb before shoving it into the lock and nearly busting the door open.

Just as he'd suspected, he'd only been greeted by the humming of various appliances, the ticking of a clock and absolute darkness.

He instantly felt sick, sweaty and dizzy.

He felt as if he'd faint.

"Sam?" His voice reached to the other side of the house, but he heard nothing in return. He stepping inside and closed himself off from the outside world, tossing his keys on the table just beside the door and setting the toolbox down on the ground next to him. He was on high alert. He'd never felt so much adrenaline pumping through his veins before.

His first decision was to go ghost and hover off of the ground so as to not make a sound traveling throughout the house. He started with each room closest to him and working his way back: the living room, the dining room, the kitchen, and even the half bathroom.

He phased through the ceiling onto the second level. He was on the verge of tears from fear and anticipation. If Sam had killed herself… if a ghost found out about her and hurt her while they were gone…

Danny would go the rest of his life blaming himself.

He held a glowing green hand up, ready to fire an ectoray at the first ghost that he sees and, with a deep breath, bursts into the room with a fling of the door.

Sam was sitting quietly on her side of the double bed they had gotten, facing towards the window of the backyard. From behind, she looked completely spaced out and unaware of what was going on around her.

She had to have been; there was no way someone coherent would hear him come in and ignore it obliviously. He took a couple of steps into the room, eyes fixated on his lover. She was only breathing, hardly making a sound or looking back at him.

Just frozen in place, chest moving up and down.

"Sam? Are you ok?"

He examined her from behind. It was only then that she turned to look at him and her eyes had been puffy and red. He stopped, his eyebrows raising in concern. He changed back as he made his way up to her. He felt an endless number of questions bounce around in his head: 'are you ok?', 'are you hurt?', 'what happened?'

He'd only managed to get one out.

"Hey…" he rushingly took a seat next to her, "Sammie, you ok?"

She pleasantly scoffed. Her exhale was as sharp as a fresh razor.

Danny grew puzzled.

"Sam, what's––?"

"Promise you won't be mad?" She asked abruptly.

He was incredibly confused of her sudden concern of a shift in his demeanor, but he nonetheless gave her a reassuring smile. She was hiding her right hand underneath her leg. "Sammie, you can tell me anything. I could never be mad at you."

"Do you swear?"

"Sam, if someone hurt you, tell me because I swear to God––" His eye color bled into a deep green.

"It's not that," she placed her free hand on his forearm. "I'm fine… I just… uh…" she chuckled nervously. "God I… I don't know how to say it except to just…"

"You scared the shit out of me all day, you know? I called you multiple times and you never responded. I was afraid that something happened to you––that you got hurt. I was afraid that––"

Finally, she brought her right arm out to show… a stick?

A white stick.

 _What the hell is that?_

He removed it from her possession and brought it closer to his face, reading the pink markings that occupied it.

It was a little pink plus sign, and of course as a man, he as clueless as a baby.

"What is this? I don't know what this means?"

She didn't answer. She just simply beamed. It was the biggest smile that he'd ever seen on her face.

"Sam? What's––?"

"It's a test," she replied.

"Uh…" he began. "What kind of test?"

"A pregnancy test."

Danny felt his stomach churn, but not in a negative manner. "And?"

"And…" she grinned, taking ahold of his other hand. "How do you feel about being a father?"

"What!?" He grinned widely. "Are you serious!?"

She nodded profusely.

"Are you… are you sure the baby is mine?"

"Josh was infertile. His sperm count was severely low due to continuous alcohol consumption and high levels of stress. It's not his… it's yours, Danny. It's ours."

"No way…" he shook his head. He was in complete shock, and thought nothing more than 'is this really happening?' "No way, Sam…"

"I promise you. I wouldn't lie about this."

It took awhile for him to allow the situation to marinate.

Sam… baby… father… him…

 _I'm… I'm going to be a dad?_ _ **I'm going to be a dad?**_ _No. Fucking. Way!_

"Oh my God." He dropped the stick and cradled her face, carefully as to not scare her, and kissed her repeatedly on the lips. "Oh my God, Sam! This is amazing!"

"Really?" she sighed in relief. "You're actually happy about this?"

"Happy? I'm starting a family with the woman I've loved for _years!_ Of course I'm happy! I'm more than happy! My God, Sam, I'm going to be a father!"

He placed his hands on either sides of waist, kissing her abdomen lovingly before working his way up to her neck, her jawline, her cheek…

His lips were a magnet to Sam's metallic skin. So much was happening all at once and he didn't know how to make sense of any of it.

One thing was for certain, however: Danny was ready to tackle any problem thrown at him.

Their loving embrace was short lived when Sam lunged forward and fell back with ease. Danny let go of her and she quickly stood to her feet, fast walking towards the master bathroom.

"Sam?"

"Gotta throw up."

Without a moment's hesitation, he immediately rushed after her, catching up just in time to see her kneel over the toilet and regurgitate. He squatted down beside her, moving her hair out of her face and kissing the top of her head.

She coughed. "This is the least fun part, of course. No pun intended, but I'm getting sick of this shit."

"I'm not," he shook his head and placed a hand on her back, patting it comfortably.

"Of course. You're not the one puking your guts out, are you?"

"Do you need me to get you anything? Anything you want, Sammie. You name it."

She let out an exasperated laugh, taking her face away from the porcelain to look into his eyes before she gave the wisecracking response:

"Thalidomide."

"What?" The shock in his voice rang aloud, pinging off of the bathroom walls. "Sam, no!"

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding." She gave him a weak smile. "Seriously, though, if you could make my nausea go away...that'd be great."

…

 **It took me over a month to write 41 pages? What? How absurd.**


End file.
